My head lay on his stomach. This young man with the hard body; this young man who stared at me for maybe 3 minutes in the bar a couple of hours ago; this man who walked over to me and just said, "I'm Jon. Follow me to my car."
Have you even been just almost asleep somewhere where people were talking? Their voices blend into an echoing, almost musical sound. That's what I was hearing. I have no idea why I remember that, but I do. Considering the situation I was in, it's pretty strange, but I'll leave that to you to judge.
I am married to the sexiest woman on earth. I know, a million tales have started like that. But no matter, you can accept it, or just skip over this story. It's not really important to me. In my mind she is the sexiest woman alive. And by what I've seen, there are a large number of men in this area who agree with me. I know, because I get to see first hand how many of them react to her. You see, I am her sexual assistant. I'm not her slave, although that's what she calls me sometimes.
Jenny was enjoying herself, walking home from her friend's house. She had her MP3 player blasting her favorite tunes. He walked faster and slower, keeping time to the beat, swinging her arms, the earbuds blocking out most of the sounds of the street. The only time her attention really focused outside of her tiny, musical world was when she crossed at a corner, always checking both ways as her Mom had drilled into her young mind.