" "Good, I'm glad. I love that you're here," he slurped spaghetti after saying that. It was so cute, so awesome, so wonderful to see, so wonderful to ...ave. He's mine. "I love it, too," I said, as I took a bite of a meatball. "You're my whore, Aubrey." "Yes Master, I am." I think he said that, for himself, not really a reminder to me. "I do what I want to you, with you. Within our boundaries though, that we've always had. Nothing changes. Love, trust, respect, they're always first. You're my. At least it wasn't a Golden Corral I was able to think while fighting back the acid reflux. By the entrance two, burned out roadies were offering handfuls of mysterious substances to geriatric revelers. This must be what Woodstock was like, I considered, although why I was contemplating a bird from Peanuts was rather mystifying. But regardless I sidled up to the grizzled roadie and whispered, "Hey, dude, what are those?" He gave me a handful of unknown Gummi 's which I immediately shared. More

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