I know these are forbidden fruit. I open my eyes again as I come to a mental block. It’s a shame I can’t remember if we did in fact kiss. I look down to see my penis fully erect. I’m sure he can remember it fully. I close my eyes and continue to piece together what happened last night. It was a black dress. Very expensive by the looks of it. I was admiring the back of it as she was holding my hand and pulling me along through the crowd. This woman has got to be at least fifteen years older than me. I told her about the presidential suite and how our band has it reserved for three days. There is a piano in it. She wanted to hear me play it. I am in the elevator slowly grinding with her face to face. I’m whispering something into her ear as I lift up her dress to grab a handful of her warm flesh. In the mirrored walls of the elevator I can see her sexy black laced panties. I give a slow thrust as I grab both of her cheeks and squeeze. She lets out a breathtaking moan into my ear. Now. Inside his own mind, the rage threatened to break free, tried to escape the box he had shoved it into, tried to force its way out so it could vent on the world at large.He nudged, sending her images of the first time he met her. He saw her interest, her almost automatic flirting. Images of him running, the thrill and terror she felt when he lifted her effortlessly that day. The shame at the attraction, knowing in her heart that she would be adding to her own shame, her own torment.He found what he had feared when he inserted her mother into the equation. Her mother drunk, beating her, calling her a whore. Blaming her for seducing her husband, turning him against her own mother. Then the drunken fall, the crash of glass. He saw the shard of glass, laying against the woman's throat, a thin line of blood was all. Until Sally stepped down, her slipper-shod foot forcing the fragment deep into her unconscious mother's throat. The spray of blood, the sense of satisfaction.Then the horror.
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