Hall of Infinite Doors
You stand close to Meagan. Her tight white sweater and plaid skirt is perfect uptight librarian material. "I ought to do something for you," you say, "How about Wednesday lunch too? Or is that?"
"I'd love to!" she sighs.
You lean in and instinctively plant a long, smooth kiss on her lips. She closes her eyes and absorbs every moment.
Wednesday comes. You bring some capsules that your brother developed in high school--sure to make anyone puke. You show up early to Meagan's office and spin around in her chair until she can go to lunch.
You choose a delightful mexican joint. It's quiet, out of the way, and above all, dark. When she is at the bathroom washing up, you grind a pill into the salsa. She has a few chips with salsa, but not many. Then, when she is distracted by her cell phone, you put the grindings from another pill on her burrito.
But she doesn't eat all of that.
You walk her back to your building, go up to her office and shut the door. You sit on her chair again and look up at her. She has a nice figure--another sweater, this one red.
She eases down and sits on your lap. You kiss her again and tell her how much you are looking forward to tomorrow night.
You snuggle and make out a little more and then leave.
That afternoon, you get a voicemail. It's Meagan. "Hey, it's me. I'm not feeling well. I'm going home early."
The next day, she doesn't show up for work. You call her at home. She's sick. She suggests that you go without her.
You go find Rosealie.
"I'd love to!" she sighs.
You lean in and instinctively plant a long, smooth kiss on her lips. She closes her eyes and absorbs every moment.
Wednesday comes. You bring some capsules that your brother developed in high school--sure to make anyone puke. You show up early to Meagan's office and spin around in her chair until she can go to lunch.
You choose a delightful mexican joint. It's quiet, out of the way, and above all, dark. When she is at the bathroom washing up, you grind a pill into the salsa. She has a few chips with salsa, but not many. Then, when she is distracted by her cell phone, you put the grindings from another pill on her burrito.
But she doesn't eat all of that.
You walk her back to your building, go up to her office and shut the door. You sit on her chair again and look up at her. She has a nice figure--another sweater, this one red.
She eases down and sits on your lap. You kiss her again and tell her how much you are looking forward to tomorrow night.
You snuggle and make out a little more and then leave.
That afternoon, you get a voicemail. It's Meagan. "Hey, it's me. I'm not feeling well. I'm going home early."
The next day, she doesn't show up for work. You call her at home. She's sick. She suggests that you go without her.
You go find Rosealie.