." She sipped from hers. "Mmm ... It's strong ... but smooth and tasty." She looked at him. "Tell me -- does this dress telegraph, street-walker?" Not at all. It telegraphs, nice girl." Debbie insisted I wear this tonight. She was afraid if, left to my own devices, I'd come up with something too trashy." I don't think that's likely. You look sensational in it, Lynne. What does this outfit telegraph?" he asked, tugging on his jacket."Nice guy." She drained her glass and set it down, then approached him. Her heart was beginning to pound again as she stood, facing him and looking him in his eyes. She moistened her lips with her tongue. In her knees Lynne was beginning to feel the effects of the Manhattan.They faced each other for a long moment; then Thomas made a move. With the back of his finger he caressed her cheek. "You do have pretty eyes..." He smiled. "You're not going to bolt, this time, are you?"She shook her head. "Uhn-uhn ... Not this time." Your eyes look like they have a bit. Gunfire rains down for the rest of the day. Some. Close some far away.It gets to around 11pm and we still havent heard anything. We have dinner discussing what it could be and what our next move should be.A very loud explosion interrupts us. She covers her ears and I stand up. I go round to her side of the table and hold her.She admits to me that we should go to a clandestine basement that she has. "In our second year, all high class citizens (woman) were instructed by the government to create hidden bunkers in their houses as the patriarchy weren't lying down." She went to her cutlery drawer and pulled out a key. She asked me to move the table in her living room and roll up the carpet. Underneath was a trap door. She unlocked it and stairs led underground. She told me to put the table somewhere and roll the carpet over the door as I came down. When I got down. Locking the door behind me it was a treasure trove of canned food and resources. Lit by one single lamp in a corner of the.
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