What about your family?" "I think my father will, how do you say it, Julie, blow a gasser over it." "Gasket, sweetie, blow a gasket. A gasser would be...if he had a farting attack." Kamiko dissolves into laughter as do Chad and myself. "Flatulence, the truly international language." "Hei, Chad, in Japan, we do not laugh as much, but we do laugh about it. When I return I shall have to take a chili recipe and see if I can have a gasser!" This is even funnier to our fairly drunk selves and we all. I hesitate for a moment and he slaps me again. I open my eyes and look at him - his face only inches from mine seems carved from stone. I search his face for clues to his mood and find nothing. He watches me and knows my thoughts, sees my body vulnerable and available to him. I move my left hand to touch my face where he hit me and still he watches. I say nothing, not only from fear but from total lack of coherency. I can feel the throbbing of my ass, my thighs and my face where he has struck. More

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