Every last drop. It was sticky, gluey, salty and slippery, but my stomach wasn't objecting. He laughed. A long laugh, as though the whole situation...was a great joke. I didn't find it that funny. "What have you done to me now?" He took a few breaths. "Well," he said, "I kind of like long hair on my girlfriends, don't you?" I stood up to look in Steve's washroom mirror. He didn't object. My hair looked the same to me. Maybe he was deluded about having physical control over me and it was. Perhaps she thought his hard-on was some weird, physical reaction to his head hitting the tiles on the floor. He doubted it, though. She wasn’t dumb. She had also said they should have a talk to help him get out of his misery. He could imagine what that talk would be about and although the idea of it still scared him, he also knew that it was the only way forward. He would really have to be less of a drama queen from now on and more of a grown-up. They didn’t have one big talk though, but. More

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