Enough had happened, in fact, not to mention the nature of those happenings, that one might even expect Bob to suffer from some kind of PTSD. Of cours... it wasn't post. Not yet. It was ongoing. Perhaps his memory of that first time was more like combat fatigue. But then they've decided that combat fatigue was PTSD before anybody knew it was PTSD.In any case, Bob didn't remember much clearly when it was "over."He did remember staring at those forest green nipples, perched on breasts that looked. After taking another step I reached behind and unclasped my bra. It too was dropped to the ground. I took another step forward. I was at the end of the table staring at the note in front of me. Reaching down, I slipped my G-string off my hips and let it fall to the floor. I was almost ready to start applying the ropes that were currently tied to the legs of the table but not quite. Going to the refrigerator, I opened the freezer and pulled out the ice cube tray. I dumped a bunch of the. More

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