Borowski had been our losing pitcher in Game Four.Ernie gave up a homer to Scott Rolen, making it 2-1 Cards.In our half of the inning, Melvin Mora dou...bled and stole third, and came in on a sac fly. It was 2-2, and we were still alive.If anybody there in the stands that day had left early, it wasn't evident. The Oriole fans were pleading for a win.But In the 14th, Pujols hit an opposite-field homer with a man on, and the place got very quiet.With nobody out, Cary Zane got a pinch-hit triple in. "Remember that sense of focusing beyond focus," he reminded us as we settled into our now familiar spot on the cavern floor. "You must strive for an ever smaller focus point. Right now your sense is dancing around the molecules, not quite able to lock on them, but before you can lock on a larger object, you must be able to lock on an individual molecule within it."Easier said than done apparently, as we once again spent several hours chasing our sense of focus in and out and around a not quite. My god she thinks, what am I doing? Get those jeans off and get on the car bitch. He growls. Her pussy spasms as she hears the derogatory words. She stands up and peels down the soaked blue jeans. She knows they will never go back on wet. How will she get home? she wonders, as he say’s Come on ya slut, hurry it up. She quickly pulls them off and sits on the trunk raising her legs above her. He likes the no panty thing. I ain’t your missionary boyfriend cunt put your legs down. As she lowers. My breath quickened. Where was my Latin beauty?I wormed my way to Mistress, trying to stay calm. "Upstairs," Mistress told me, sensing my question. "In our suite. Top floor." Thank you, Mistress."I raced to the elevator and smashed my fingers onto the up button furiously. I stared at the display that showed which floor it was at, watching the numbers slowly grow lower as the elevator descended. I wanted to scream at the stupid thing, I was so wound up inside. I needed it to come down. I burned.