“Leave on the stockings -- and the shoes for now.” She knew that everything else was to come off.“Yes, Jonathan. Earrings?”“Leave them on, t...o. Did you insert your diaphragm?”“Yes, Jonathan.”When she had hung her clothes in the closet, he brought her three packages wrapped in Christmas paper. Two of them were the same odd shape, the third was long and thin. “This,” he said, “is the third day of Christmas. The song calls for three French hens.” He handed her one of the odd-shaped packages. “The. Don't wait up, Donna wants to watch a bunch of sappy romantic comedies so may be a bit late. Love you.” She strolled out. As soon as I heard the car start I got my car keys and got ready to go. I opened my iPhone and logged into the find my iPhone app. I had known her account password since I was the one who set it up for her. Sure as mustard I was able to check her location. I got into my car and started to follow her once I was sure she was well out of sight. I ended up in the city and found. Can you stand the ride?”“I’ll make it. But I think I’d better go.”“Okay.”“Sure you aren’t mad at me?”“Hell, no. This ghost story stuff always freaks me out anyway,” Wayne confessed. “Much rather take you home. The fresh air will do us both good.”It was just after eleven when they reached the dorm. She leaned heavily on him as they walked in. The dorm monitor at the desk carefully turned his head away as they signed in. As long as they weren’t disorderly, he wasn’t going to turn them in as. I knew he did this to further embarrass me. The owner smiled. He sat down. I stood at Mr. Wilson’s side, like an obedient pet while he took a seat. The owner again looked me up and down, my belly button pendent caught his eye. He smiled again, before turning to Mr. Wilson. …Mr. Wilson’s perspectiveThis was my kind of guy. Short, bald, degenerate, and still able build a business built on objectifying women and treating them as objects. I’m sure he had his fair share of access to the talent as.