Then nothing. I tried to focus on myself, closing my eyes, for there was nothing to see in the blackness around me. I was in a chair. An armchair, and...my hands and feet were tied to it with what felt like zip ties, clearly not rope. I focused on my body, what I could feel, and determined I was unharmed, except for my fuzzy head. I tried each of my extremities against its bond, but I was held firmly in place. My feet were tied to the chair in a way where they could not touch the ground, so I. He was doing a pretty good job too. The hood was gleaming in the sun like new.I may be screwing up here, letting Ainsely and Javon be together, I told myself. Then I considered Mike's situation. I know that despite what Penthouse letters say, this whole scene is dangerous. But at least I'm not as bad as Mike. I mean, washing and waxing his wife's lover's car while Richard is no doubt inside getting a piece of ass, or at least getting his dick sucked, now that's just over the top. That'll never. More

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