. "I'm sorry," I finally yelled to her. I waited for a response but heard none. I slowly rose from the floor and looked down at my right hand; it was ...lippery from the lubrication and from her menstrual fluids. The cherry-colored streaks looked the way a wiped bloody nose would. I tentatively licked the blood-streaked sauce off of my right index finger. At first it was dull, but a couple seconds later was pure ecstasy as the salty aftertaste and deviousness of the act hit me like a meth high.. Before he got really uncomfortable, he said, "I don't know what to say, how to start. I feel like an idiot..." You aren't an idiot, Dennis. You felt you wanted ... or needed ... to speak to me. I've learned that impulses like that are to be heeded." It's not..." I know you're not going to hit on me, Dennis. We're neither of us ready for anything like that anyway. Though I'm sure being a fairly good-looking woman is part of what made you want to talk to me. Why don't you tell me about. More

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