This is Paul. Paul from the gas station. You gave me your number and said to call you,” I finally blurted out quickly.“Hi, Paul. Yea, this is Pam....Nice to finally know your name. Glad you decided to call me,” she said very calmly “How are you?”“I... I... I am doing ok,” I said sort of stuttering. Clearing my throat, I then asked, “Why did you want me to call you? Did I mess up and give you the wrong amount of gas or something?” I asked while thinking that was a dumb question. 'There I go being. I think it was a spare mooring line for the boat, thirty feet of autoerotic asphyxiation bliss. Tying a hangman’s noose, I’d throw the other end of the rope up and over one of the ceiling joists. Then setting a short footstool beneath the noose, I’d tie a small knot at the other end of the rope, one just big enough to keep my hands from slipping off, then I’d step off the footstool to hang.Sadly, the brief summer months spent at the cabin were the only time I could explore my autoerotic. More

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