She walked in and said “electricity” in broken English. I wasn’t sure what she meant but I got up and headed downstairs with her. Again, Easte...n European women seem subservient and she followed me down to the basement and she had a full view of my ass as we went down the stairs. When we got to the washer I noticed it was not running and the dehumidifier was also not working. I knew that a circuit breaker had tripped because the washer, dryer, and dehumidifier overloaded the circuit. I. She crossed he legs and started to ask questions about me. “You must be in college. How old are you?”“I’m at City College uptown...”“I know the place.”“Anyway, I turned twenty-one in May.”She got more personal, “I assume you have a girlfriend up there?”Actually, I didn’t have one at that time, but I lied. After all, this was a game in which I was supposed to make up dialogue. “I do; her name is Michelle. By the way, I’m Paul.”“Hello, I’m Holly.” She didn’t say, pleased to meet you, but I didn’t. I began fantasising about Chris being fucked by that dick and imagining her expression as that beautiful purple tip eased between her pussy lips, parting the way for the rest of that enormous dick to slide into her. I became aware that my own puny penis was beginning to grow. I shook off the last drops, zipped up and turned to the wash basins.I waited for Chris and as she came out of the ladies room I noticed the same guy heading our way. Neat, close cropped hair, about 6 feet tall with broad. Her head ached badly; it felt like a little guy wearing big boots was kicking inside her brain in time with her pulse.Then she went to the washroom, splashed some cold water on her face and scraped back her long hair into a band. Flipping on a radio that sat on a shelf near the sink, the beautiful slim, young brunette heard, at a low volume, a very, very apt song start and laughed to herself. It was 'Sunday Morning Coming Down' by Johnny Cash. The first verse played:Well, I woke up Sunday.