I was unprepared for the jolt of her violent shove against my shoulders and felt like I left my body as I recoiled back onto the bed. I floated in an orange limbo as she worked feverishly at the zipper on my jeans. I raised my hips and helped her slip them off. I protruded underneath my red and white striped boxer shorts making them look like a miniature circus big top. She reached out toward me and grabbed at my T-shirt. "Off," she said tugging at it quickly, letting it snap back into place. I took it off as she slowly ran her hands up the insides of my thighs and under the open legs of the boxers. Her fingers glided over my skin, touching only the thick patch of hair around my sex. Each tiny hair she touched sent a small shockwave of excitement through my body. I arched my back, yearning for her to take hold of me, yearning for it to begin. She removed her hands and pulled on the bottom of my shorts. My length caught under the elastic waistband and sprung back slapping against my stomach as it came free.

She spread my legs apart and knelt between them. She probed me with those feline eyes, only now they wandered, searching my body. I was naked and felt naked, like the naked you feel stripping for a doctor or lying with a lover for the first time. Delicately, she untied the cord around her waist and eased the robe off her shoulders, letting it fall to the bed. The drugs made me unsure of my actions and I lay motionless, searching her body with my eyes.