"What happened last Friday, for one thing," he said. "That was . . . an accident." She couldn’t meet his eyes. "A nice accident, but we both know it...didn’t mean anything . . . more than that. You were trying to comfort me, and I appreciated it. I still do." Simon was silent, watching her. She didn't really think that, he was sure. She was . . . well, he didn't know what she was doing. Staving off embarrassment? Letting him down easy? Avoiding her feelings? "How do we know that?" He took another. It had been like 2 days since I'd last sleptand the vibrating pulses seemed to slow down and turn into a steadygently vibrating. I woke up with a bit of a start as the panel in mycrotch jumped to life again resuming its pulse scheduled. It tookeverything I had to not yelp aloud from the shock and the sexual pain Iwas feeling. The woman next to me gave me a devious grin and a wink asI realized she must have heard me sitting there vibrating quietly andcontently in my sleep. She must have gotten. .aroslav: I discovered and registered at Storiesonline on August 2. That's when I adopted the name aroslav. About two years ago.Tony: Okay, then how old is Devon Layne, really?aroslav: Even younger. I didn't adopt the name Devon Layne until I started publishing my erotic romances on Kindle and Nook a year later.Tony: So Devon Layne is a pseudonym for aroslav which is an avatar named after a guinea pig. I'm not going to find anything out about the real you, am I?aroslav: You're interviewing. We sat, and the Maitre D’ asked what we wanted to drink. Chrissy requested a double vodka and tonic and I ordered a white wine. As soon as the Maitre D’ had gone she took cigarettes and an expensive looking lighter from her bag and proceeded to light a cigarette and puff nervously at it. She did not look at me once, it was as if I was not there. She picked up the menu the Maitre D’ had left and began flicking through it. I tried to start a conversation again but with the same results as before.