Oh Vikka, what are you doing? Your fingers slowly pull down the zip of my jeans. You insinuate first one finger, then another, between the flaps of ma...erial.“Vikka, don’t,” I whisper urgently. “What if someone sees us?”“Who cares?” you whisper back.“I do!” I reply, but I know I don’t. The combination of alcohol and arousal overrules my natural modesty and inhibitions, as they always do I’m afraid.And god it does feel nice as your fingers rub against the thin material of my pink panties. You. I admire myself in the mirror. ‘Good job, Jim. You’re hired.’ I swear I hear a faint laugh. The paper and pencil are picked up, and the paper is being written on again, ‘I’m not done yet.’ Being invisible has its drawbacks. ‘Jim, I can see the clippers behind your back, ya know.’ Another faint laugh. ‘This must be some powerful night if you can hold those and use them.’ They turn on in response. He bends my head down and I feel the clippers on my neck, shearing hair from my neck. Several. More

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