Checking the back of your dress, your ass was soaked. Well, now, I thought. This does change things a bit. You were so horny that you had soaked your ...dress. Things were looking up. ‘I carried you upstairs and laid you down on the bed. Wondering about whether I’d be charged with date rape, I check your panties. Soaked. Sopping wet. That’s when I decided to go for it.’ Your eyes follow my hand as it reaches over to the nightstand. I grab the bottle floating in the glass of water. Wiping of the. Every good novel would tell her this mission had to be flown alone&hellip,no accomplices. Jayson was at his desk in his small office off the entry foyer. As she swung down to the hall floor around the end of the banister a light bulb came on in her head. She had never asked for anything that she did not receive&hellip, that was the only good product of money as she saw it. She did not ask for much, but now was the time. It took ten minutes of conversation with Jayson to tell him about the. The poorly fastened boards which alone divided me from it yielded to my efforts, and I found myself in the house. Hastily snatching up the lighted candle, I hurried to the staircase; about midway a body was lying quite across the stairs. It was that of La Carconte. The pistol I had heard had doubtless been fired at her. The shot had frightfully lacerated her throat, leaving two gaping wounds from which, as well as the mouth, the blood was pouring in floods. She was stone dead. I strode past. ” I replied, “It just takes a little practice.” “Would you teach me?” she said with a smile. How could I say no? “Where are my manners?” I blurted out, standing up and offering her my seat, while praying that she didn’t notice the tent in my jeans. I handed her my guitar, moved behind her and said, “Put your fingers here, here, and here and strum with your other hand.” She did as instructed, smiled again, and looked up at me. “There you go! You’ve learned your first chord!” She stood, trying.