Golding, I haven't heard the man upstairs. No, Mrs. Golding, he isn't bothering me. Maybe, Mrs. Golding, you should complain to the building manager a...l by yourself.Outside my door was not Mrs. Golding, but a vision of incredible loveliness. Long, flowing hair of the finest gold, blue eyes that danced beneath impossibly long lashes, a pair of jeans that appeared to have been painted on, and a knit sweater that stretched in all the right directions."Are you ready?"After another moment's gaping,. "Pull your tongue back in." I watched him wince and shudder a little as the pungent soap caused his mouth to fill with saliva. He looked genuinely scared and I felt a thrill down my spine. "Every time you want to open your mouth when I have not given you permission, your tongue will make good friends with Mr Bar o'Soap here. You don't like that, do you?" He shook his head and I saw him fighting the urge to spit or swallow. I gave him a little paper dixie cup. "Spit in there" which he did. More

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