Then, with an almost fearful breathlessness, she asked, "Did you read it?" Yes," I said and my hand rose to her cheek.She nuzzled into it with a paine... smile and as I struggled between my masculine need and my gentleman's restraint, Melissa whispered, "Please, don't ask. Don't make me choose. Don't give me the chance to say no."I'll always wonder if lightning chose that moment to strike, and if there be poetry in a storm it most certainly would have. In that flash, I moved toward her, pressing. After the bowl of sewage came an entire bowl of ground up hot peppers withwasabi tossed in for good effect. My mouth and lungs were on fire and my eyesburned and nose ran. She was absolutely delighted. The fourth bowl was filledwith smashed bugs and the hair from her shower drain, a messy crunchy mix thathad me almost vomiting. I didn't think I could go any further. The fifth bowl,she confessed, was the last full bowl she had, the sixth was empty and dependedon my performance here. If I was a. More

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