She was a gorgeous Indian girl called Anita, a little chubby but mainly on her ass and breasts, just how I liked it. The months of take away meals and...frozen pizzas, were yet to come and she actually still had a nice shape. She had hoop earrings, great eyes and a beautiful smile. We talked a little, I was feeling nonchalant, which really helped, so I said "Okay it was nice talking to you and began to walk away". I stopped and asked her, "Hey, I'd like to get in touch with you again, what's your. He hasn’t spoken. Hasn’t pulled out a flashlight or a lighter in the pitch-dark. He just drags me, limping heavy down long halls and around short corners. Down stars. Down, down, down. Oooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm… He doesn’s turn around as whatever bomb he planted erupts. There isn’t so much much as a rattle of the light fixtures. Eventually, it feels like we’re walking on gravel. And now, wood and gravel. Train tracks, somewhere underground. Which quickly becomes above ground.. More

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