I knew I had to have been insane to make that comment. I had to be... We were just passing the dish towel display when ducked behind a nearby aisle. I didn't bother to watch your progress. Instead, I turned and retreated back to the utensils, planning to head to the store front and through the exit to freedom.I guess you had other plans, for I as I turned to head down the main aisle, there you stood, just noticeable in the next aisle over. I froze in place -- startled at your sudden appearance. You were frowning, even your brows were knitted in thought, and... Was that anger I saw in your face? Impatience?You were holding the dog collar with one hand and slapping it into the open palm of the other. "Do you own a dog?" You asked.Your question seemed odd, considering we'd first met in the pet department. I nodded."Have you ever been curious about it's collar? How it'd feel around your own neck?" I looked from the leather collar back to your face. I shook my head -- no.Taking a step. She is suddenly aware again of where they are, and feeling no want of censure, is incapable of disentangling herself from his arms. As if reading her thoughts however, he carefully releases his hold and clasps her hand, pulling her urgently through the crowd toward the room he had prepared for their rendezvous. She floats behind him, every pore tingling with anticipation of what must be. They stumble through the thick curtains into a disused cloakroom, the only sound, their ragged breathing slicing through the inky shadows. He frees her hand and she waits patiently as he finds the dim lamp and switches it on. He does not want to miss a thing. He takes off his jacket and sits on the black velvet high backed Edwardian chaise and spreads his legs, the swelling straining against the buttons of his pants, a mischievous smirk playing on his mouth. She lifts the skirts of her petticoats, revealing long stockinged legs and black stilettos and walks with measured steps until his knee slips.
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