It was Charlie, thank god! “What on earth do you think you are doing to my good friend?” The bouncer looked uncertain, but quickly released my ar.... The waiter’s face contorted into a comical parody of suppressed anger with a slapped-on coat of obsequious politeness. If my life were a cartoon, steam would have been coming out of his ears. “Your fr...?” he stammered. “Well I... I... I assure you that I really would...” “I don’t care what you really would,” said Charlie haughtily, glaring hard. It was actually the average scene one might have spied if they peeked in on the twenty-seven-year-old on any given Saturday night; Kat, a bit short at 5'4", with medium-length jet black hair and straight bangs, almond-shaped brown eyes that acted as the primary clue to her half-Taiwanese descent, a thin (but not especially thin) body accented by modest (perhaps especially modest) curves; donning just a very comfortably large My Bloody Valentine t-shirt and a pair of neon blue-and-pink-striped. Noticing my tension, he whispers, “relax baby girl, I am in control, he is here to help us, he will not hurt you, and he knows the boundaries. But if you want this to end, just say the word. Do you want this to end baby girl? Do you want to use your word?” My mind racing, no I don’t want this, I have never wanted any other man, how could you let someone else have me? But at the same time Sir’s hand in my pussy, his voice in my ear, a strange tongue on my breast and now more hands on me, all. ” He nodded. “Right. Well, that was how I rated you in fifth year. I think you got about a five. Out of ten, that is. Nothing special, I thought, and could do with bigger …” I looked away from him again. “Right. Thanks for that.” “And then last term when we did it again,” he said loudly, talking over me, “I gave you a ten.” My head spun towards him. “Ten?” He nodded. “I told you in Bristol that you were just about perfect,” he said. “And I meant that. I thought you were.” He shook.
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