My father was a printer and publisher, and more importantly at the time, an influential man in the politics of the area. He had come to America from E...gland with his father at an early age. He had been academically brilliant and his father's skills with the typesetting equipment of the day made the family prosperous. By the time he was in college, his father owned his own business, and while he had no interest in politics, he understood its importance to anyone whose business was printing the. She wanted a room and a bed or at least a room to give herself up to him. She really wanted to feel him inside her, but not here like this. He told her he owed her a big one. She said , yeah you do and I want that big one again, but next time I want it inside me. He agreed and said next payday weekend he’d take her to a hotel to ride all night or till she couldn’t walk anymore. She smiled at him and said “It’s a deal, but you better make sure I can’t walk right, and he better not pass any. She lay still, feeling the afterglow of the massage. Idly, she wondered where he would touch her next, but it didn’t seem terribly important. She wondered why he’d felt the need to incorporate handcuffs into the experience. Then there were swift clicks, and her ankles were bound, as locked in place as her hands.Suddenly, before she could start to analyze this change, there was a touch on her inner thigh. It wasn’t his hand, nor his tongue, nor … what was it? Something flat, longer than it was. "Dr. May. Who are you?" the board said.I stared, momentarily paralyzed. My last name was also May."I'm Dr. Andrew May. Head researcher... inventor of the NDRS," I wrote as quickly as I could.As she read it, I watched her smile, and finally laugh. She was shaking her head slowly, looking across the divide. I could see she was as perplexed and amazed as I was. Finally she wrote back."I'm Andrea May. Head researcher, inventor of the NDRS," she shrugged as she showed it to me, still smiling.I was.
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