My breath left me with the vehemence of an explosion and I leaned on the wall for support. Gaze cast down, I breathed deeply, like she’d taught me. ... set the gun on the hall table and, knowing the safety was off, I recoiled from it. I placed my back against the wall and tried to pull air into lungs that felt the size of ping-pong balls. A rush of cold met my spine at the base of my skull and my chest opened, allowing me to suck in enough air to recede the darkness at the corners of my vision. . My equipment was up to the job, my mind couldn't think about anything else. But I was shy. Around girls, anyway. I'm convinced now that I had any number of offers. I was just too stupid to recognise them.As it happens, the night it all changed couldn't have gone better. I'd been going out with a pretty girl for the previous three months, and had been trying to think of a way to ask her. We had been to the movies with some friends this night, and had a few drinks at one of the guy's apartments. He was jealous, he said, “I always wanted to know what it was like to have my foreskin. I’ve read it’s so much more sensitive. Better orgasms, ya know?” I smiled, “I can imagine, with more nerves and nerve endings. But I guess we’ll never know for sure...” Michaela arrived a few minutes later through the back door. She had brunette hair, and a slender build, just like the pictures. Her walk was confident, but fast with intrigue. She grinned with excitement, already thinking about what was to. “Umm, okay well I work in this kitchen on campus at my college,” she began giving a little wiggle and spreading her legs a bit more so he could have better access to her, “and when I first started I was in charge of washing dishes. That’s like the new person’s job. So, I got stuck in this small room with a big sink, an old like industrial dishwasher, and just an absolute fuck ton of dirty dishes. And I just spent hours in that room cleaning dishes by myself because people would just send the.