I expected phone calls, but fortunately, I never heard from him again.Second, I had a chance to see how they treated being ever-so-slightly dominated ...I drove, but he opened the door for me; kept my bread dish filled with buttered bread; I ordered for him; he gave me money, I paid the bill; he stood when I rose and when I returned; he held my chair for me, and so forth). Third, I had a chance to talk to them concerning what they wanted; their fantasies; their limits. Were they married or did. The lemonade was Gatorade, the garden was huge and the house spectacular. Christine welcomed me at the front door and immediately walked me through to the rear garden, and the court. It was in perfect condition, surrounded by a 12ft fence and had a small refrigerator by the umpire’s chair, where the Gatorade was kept.Today Christine was wearing black shorts and a pink top. Her hair was swept back with a band and she seemed more relaxed in her parents’ garden. She explained they were. Then once again, it sprung up when I went out, and she was there. That one was just now subsiding. I think before I go to dinner, tomorrow, I need to 'take things in hand', so I don't embarrass myself any more than I have already. Only time will tell what happens, from here on out.I finally calmed down enough that I could get out of the car and go into the house. I was pretty much a wreck for the rest of the evening. I nuked something in the microwave, but I couldn't tell you what. I had the TV. All I did was sit.In the end, Tara swore. She picked up the sponge and threw it across the bathroom. It slapped wetly onto the mirror and slid down to the sink – leaving a soapy smear down the glass.She slumped down until she was sitting on the floor and started crying.I sat in the bath with my eyes still closed and listened to her sniffle. I could feel streaks of shampoo slide down my face – over my eyelids and down my cheeks before dripping off my chin.Without any conscious decision from me,.