“Look,” he remarked, “gas regulators. That’s where they must’ve had propane cylinders for the gas range. I remember as a kid my grandmother ...had a propane gas range with cylinders chained to the house.”“Would you keep the gas range?”“I don’t like propane because it’s heavier than air. If you have a leak, it pools in the low spots and can be a hazard. Natural gas is lighter than air and dissipates easier. On top of that you have the hassle of swapping out or refilling the tanks.”“Well, it’s a. It had a louder swish and a cracking sound on impact. When I landed the first lash with this belt across her back, she screamed: (lash) ?Oh, OOH!, Aahhh! God?.damm!?At this point I began delaying each lash for around ten seconds, or longer. That gave her time to fully feel the burning pain and scream emotionally after each lash. As the heavier belt struck her naked skin, she began yelling alarmingly loud after each lash.(lash) ?Aaaagh!? (lash) ?Ohooo,? Ow-uuuh! Goddam!?(lash) ?Oh,. Everything is blurry.Sound is a strange thing. Vibrations in the air. I think someone is playing a cello. A string of some kind, anyway. Stringed instrument, I mean. Ugh. Words are hard even in my mind. I can hear water boiling, and what seem very much like the sounds of pleasure – a supposition supported by the smell of sex. My vision is clearing, and I can see figures which are clearly people. I try to stand, but my sense of equilibrium is compromised.Oh. It’s a party. Obviously. Those lights. He seems to kiss away all the air within me. This is the first time I have met such a passionate kisser, he can even out kiss me and I have to respect him for that. After disentangling themselves from each other, we go for a short tour of the place. It is very spacious. We discover the apartment is tastefully decorated with candles in every room, multi-coloured roses in vases, Salvador Dali pictures on the walls and we hear Vivaldi music coming from the Dolby speakers nearby. In.