Feb. 18th, Monday: Doctor Westmeir finally called the dorm to let me know that all the test results were back, and he said that I was exactly the r...ght person for the experiment. I showed up at the lab half an hour later. Ugh! The liquid they had me drink was the foulest tasting stuff I've ever drank. It smelled like a combination of a cesspool, rotten eggs and I'm not sure what else. All I know was that when it hit the bottom of my stomach, it hit like glob of molten metal, and worse. I was convulsing with a mixture of pleasure and discomfort. You cannot understand the intensity I was experiencing, or my need to come down from this high.Bob had the good sense to turn the device off, and my arousal subsided as the song ended. I stood there a moment, my head resting on Bob’s shoulder, panting, as I tried to recover. I was afraid to look around the room to see if anyone was staring at me, aghast of my indecent display on the dance floor. I could not deal with the shame of. As he handed the pages to Presley with an apologetic look he turned the door handle as quietly as he could manage, peeking out his head to look down the dark hallway. Deciding it was clear, Dara made his way into the dark, letting Presley fall into step behind him. ‘Where will you go?! You can’t just run off, what if something happens to you?’ She whispered harshly after him, her fingers lightly nipping at his sleeve as she tried to get his attention. He didn’t know what he was going to do but. I poked him again. And he didn't move. "Peter, come on, we landed."I grabbed his shoulder, and pulled him back against the seat. He was asleep, he was a really deep sleeper. I grabbed his shoulders, and shock him like crazy, and he finally woke up. "What?" he muttered, sitting up straight, and rubbed his eyes. He had a red mark on the side of his face where he had been asleep against the wall. I laughed at it, and handed him one of the compacts from my purse so he could look. He muttered to.