I locked the door and then I got handcuffs and a rope out the drawer. Quietly I cuffed each arm of her onto the legs of the massage table and then I d...d so with her legs as well. I took the rope and tied it under the table and over her belly so she was not able to lift her back. Then I took the towels of her. I undressed and went over to her feet. I rubbed my penis on them. Then I got over to her face and kissed her that woke her up. She said what the fuck and noticed that she was bond so she. Certain times in our life begin to take on a theme, and certain moments stand out as turning points. When we attempt to define the narrative of our life, we focus on these themes and these moments, and we ascribe to them a significance that fictionalizes them. These moments only represent a metaphor for the greater truth of the whole story. As the years go by, I find myself continuing to look back on a particular time in my life that has become very important to me. This story is about that. I soon introduced myself after we departed and began to make conversation with the gorgeous British babe. Her name is Gwen Edwards, and she is headed back to London after traveling to Atlanta for business. We talked about ourselves and what we do. She's 25 and spends a lot of time traveling working for some big-shot marketing industry. I told her about my study abroad program and she was really fascinated by that. She even offered me some advice for the best places to check out and to contact. A door separating me from my traveling companion. I am on the sleep sofa, lumpy, uneven, too thin to support any weight. Dark. The bathroom light is left on so that she can see her way in the dark, if she opens the door during the night. The bathroom is on my side of the divide. On my side of the door. Dark. Time is uncertain to me. The alarm clock is on her side, in the bedroom. On my side, nothing but the dark. An arm's length away is a cellphone, and if I reach for it, I can see the time..
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