Do you, by chance, have any of those things in the supply room?”Hearing Gath’s groundie accent, the clerk’s eyes took on a different look. It wa...s if he now had a partial explanation for the goings on in his usually quiet store. “No,” he said, annunciating the word carefully, as if he were speaking to an idiot. “We don’t keep anything in the supply room that is not on display in the store.”“A pity,” Gath said with a sigh. “Oh well. At least you have ground coriander and fresh tomatoes for the. Finally, there was Harold. He was thirty-five years old, balding, overweight, and had never been married. Hell, I don’t think he had ever been on a date with a woman. Poor Harold was the butt of many jokes, but he was a really decent man who seemed to enjoy the camaraderie of our group. His Sunday excursions to our basement may have been the only time he got out of his house down the road, which he shared with his elderly mother.This cast of characters arrived at our home during the afternoon. She crashed into something jangly and dissonant and upsettingly brilliant. How could she do those things, make those miraculous wrenching sounds? It was like nothing I'd ever heard before.I sat down on the little bench in the hall. No way could I leave now--I'd disturb them. But besides that, the music held me. It felt like, oh I don't know... like I was in the middle of a hugely busy street, with cars and trucks and busses whizzing by me on all sides, dangerously close. I couldn't take an inch. She shivered with anticipation. Gently, his mind linked with hers, blocking the pain as he claimed her at last. Only pleasure was left behind, and she welcomed it with open arms (and legs). He allowed her to see through his eyes as her virgin blood leaked onto the mattress, then she was back to herself, nothing distracting her from the pure pleasure he gave her as he moved inside her, against her, with her. He guided and controlled her where appropriate, letting his hands and mouth help him to.