I took in the scene. I have to admit, this was funny and exciting at the same time. And, I was a little angry. Not because she had called me in the evening, it was not that late. But after all, it was the first game of the World Series.
I looked at her. She was sexy, and the vulnerability caused by her self-inflicted helplessness was kind of cute. I looked at the cuffs around her ankles, the smooth skin of her thighs, the bed sheet barely covering her modesty. Then my eyes met hers and I saw growing concern in her looks.
"Please," she begged, "the keys ....."
I noticed a subtle trembling in her voice, this was not the pissed off girl who had just called me to her house. She was obviously, and rightfully, getting worried that she might not get off this one that easily.
"Oh, come on," she begged, "this is already embarrassing enough. Don’t drag it on."
"You know that the Cardinals were 4:1 ahead in game one?" I asked.
"Really .... wow," she replied, but not convincingly, "you know, you can unlock me and we can go down and watch the game. We can order pizza and I have beer in the fridge. The keys must be somewhere over there," she pointed.
When I looked in the direction I noticed it for the first time. Sitting on the floor, right next to the bed, was what usually is referred to as the ‘toy box’. This was getting better by the minute. I stepped over to have a look inside.
"Noooo, don’t!" she wailed ......