"I still haven't decided yet." Amy nodded understandingly at that, telling him that she was in the same situation. While they walked into the building together, Marcus and Amy continued to talk. He felt kind of funny talking to her like that, knowing that just a week earlier he would have been trying to get into her pants. However, at the moment that wasn't very likely, and oddly enough, not quite as interesting. After they'd gone up the first level of stairs, Amy asked, "So, you wanna come into my room for a bit?" Marcus only hesitated for a moment before agreeing. Once inside Amy's room, Marcus glanced around somewhat uncomfortably while he sat on her couch. Amy offered him a cup of soda which he gladly accepted, only wishing that it wasn't diet. Marcus winced as he took a sip, thinking "I hate this diet crap." However he didn't let Amy know that. After a few more minutes of talking about nothing in particular, Amy started to look embarrassed and uncomfortable. "I know it's. He really pulled my arms tight against the table edges and I remember how uncomfortable it felt against the hard table top with my breasts squashed against the rough waxed surface. He pushed open my legs wide with his foot and secured my ankles to the bottom of the tapered table legs .... I was helpless and a bit frightened, my mind was desperately reeling, I remember thinking some left field and bizarre thoughts, like, had anyone ever been laid out on the table like this before in its long history, for punishment, or sex, or perhaps having rudimentary surgery performed or even giving birth, these old tables were the centre piece of some of these old farm kitchens used for everything under the sun. It was so surreal, it was a hot summer afternoon and Mike had left the upper half of the back door wide open to give us air. I could smell the flowers in my garden and hear birds, it was so quiet I could hear bees it was idyllic and peaceful outside. How-ever in my head and in my heart,.
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