That seat next to her called to me. The orange sodium illumination of the streetlight, perhaps mixed with some tint of moonlight, bid me sit next to h...r. What manner of twisted fool is called to sit next to someone like her, by a city streetlight, no less? This manner of fool. ‘Danielle?’ I asked tentatively. Danielle . Never ‘Dani,’ Danielle. What a fitting name. She had been the ‘Hot girl’ of our high school class. Queen Crap of Shit Mountain. Popular, beautiful, and exuberantly happy.. Her face lit up. My God, she breathed. I felt her fingers close gently round it. It was still slippery and her delicate grip slid electrifyingly up to the top, then down again. My whole body arched as its nerve-endings fired right through me, lifting my pelvis a foot at least off the bed. She stilled her hand and I subsided, not breathing. Jamie, she said, sounding not repelled but thrilled, this is amazing. Its true, what Martine and Henri said: you can fuck me with this&hellip, It happened. More

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