She was no beauty. She had brown mousy hair and wore glasses. She averted her gaze. She was clearly not going to talk. Accidentally on purpose, I knoc...ed over my glass of orange juice and most of it landed on her. Needless to say, she was not happy. I gushed out my apologies and offered to pay the cleaning bill for her skirt. We were talking, well, I think we were. I saw her again on the same day as we left college. Surprisingly, she was quite civil towards me and mumbled something like her. No . . . I ached! Beside me, Tom stirred on the bed. I couldn’t move my hands, I couldn’t move my feet. Both were immobile. I had never before been tied up. ‘I ache,’ I protested. ‘No, I mean, I ache!’ Tom gave a little laugh. ‘It’s not funny,’ I whined, although it very well was. My ass felt like an exploded hand grenade. ‘You want some more?’ ‘No!’ I exclaimed, the absolute truth, and he laughed. ‘I don’t believe what you did to me.’ He rolled over and placed his hand in the small of my. More

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