A big hug. Probably lots of them, really, but she deserves them all. Stan, have you looked in a mirror yet?’ ‘Er, no, Anne. No, I haven’t Why?�...’ Anne had never released his hand, so now when she stood and tugged on it, Stan stood automatically with her. He followed her as she walked directly to the toilets. The Ladies toilets. Stan baulked. ‘Er, Anne, I can’t go in there!’ ‘Don’t be silly, Stan, there’s no-one else here!’ ‘And?’ ‘And there’re mirrors in there, and I want you to see.’ She pulled. I love the feeling of him against me and smell of his skin, a faint mixture of soap, heat and that inexplicable pheromone that magically makes us compatible. He just smells “right”. Always has. His breaths form an irregular pattern as he draws me against him and basks in the scent I’ve strategically dabbed at my pulse points. It floats up between us, sometimes concentrated, sometimes elusive, then mingles with the muskier forest and drifts away from our bodies to be lost among the foliage.. All that was ever broadcast was this minimalist piece of music, so quiet that you weren't sure if you were even hearing it. Speculation grew about it. The music was played on the BBC, CNN, ABC news shows whilst so-called 'experts' debated about it's origin. Everyone heard it and tuned in at least once a day (often more). Then after a month the sound and visuals changed. With no warning, everyone found themselves compelled to go to a computer, or call a phone number. Everyone did. No-one could. I'll be sure to let Ray J know that we had fun tonight." Kimberly's mouth fell wide open. She was stunned when Monica mentioned her ex-boyfriend.Monica left her in the bathroom still partially undressed. Kimberly tried to redress herself. Her nipples were sore. Kimberly put her skirt back on. She left the bathroom stall and headed straight to the bar to get a drink.The rest of the night became a blur. She ignored everyone at the club and just kept on buying more drinks. Kimberly knew a lot of.
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