Now get out.” She left as I left and on the way down in the lift and to the parking garage I filled her in on the plans that we'd made for meeting. ...hich, to be fair, were pretty loose. Meeting in a pub – not a bar, an actual pub – to see how we got on and then maybe out for a few more beers later on. No big deal. Was I nervous? Damn right. After all, I was meeting a straight guy who self-identified with a subculture that wasn't known for its acceptance of gays, who had put an ad in the paper. Lucy was wearing the peach-colored business suit she often wore to school. John just had a red bandanna, black t-shirt and old jeans. He sneered while looking her up and down.“Here take your medicine and let’s go upstairs. I haven’t seen your bedroom yet.” John shoved a cup of coffee, laced with the drug, into her hand and pointed at the stairs.Lucy’s hand trembled as she downed the drink. Her muscles became weak as they walked up the stairs, John’s hand squeezing her bottom. He smelled of. More

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