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He gave me a strong tug and I was suddenly there besidehim, looking up at him, standing in the sun for all to see. He closed myfront door then with his free hand, my heart leaping as I heard thelatch drop locking it. His car was parked in the street outside my driveand he pulled me along by the hand, down the drive to it. My face was onfire the whole time and my head down looking at my feet , terrified atbeing seen or meeting a neighbour. He unlocked the car doors with hisremote and then opened the passenger door for me. The inside beckoned,privacy, a place to hide. I quickly bent to get in, the sudden smack onmy bum making me jump and almost leap inside, sitting with a stingingfeeling in my posterior.His laugh was an almost gleeful chortle and suddenly he was sittingbeside me."Do your seatbelt up Richie, we don't want to get stopped by the policenow do we?" His smirk reflected his teasing comment, he fully knew whathis every carefully chosen word was doing to me.I don't remember. .. that slippery slope that usually ends with a nap ... Chuck’s comment struck my funny bone ... hard.After I was in control ... they idea of which caused me to relapse into laughter ... again. I do admit I saw the ridiculous side of the condition. That caused the loss of any semblance of control ... again.I grabbed a handful of crushed chips from the blue bowl ... it wasn’t Tom’s but they were good enough. My mouth blossomed with the flavors of sour cream, onion, nacho cheese, cheddar, greasy potatoes, baked chips, tortillas, lime, lemon salt, pork rinds, corn chips, vinegar ... every kind of chips ... except barbecue ... I hate barbecue flavoring ... took a swig of my Orange Crush ... the best orange pop ... and tried again.I mumbled through the chips, “I want to talk to you about sex.”“What do you want to know?” Funny, he understood me perfectly. I didn’t understand what I had said, but Chuck did.Chuck was immediately coated with chips and orange soda. Passing through the nostrils.
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Along the way we had become much involved with a bunch of friends who met under the guise of being members of a group called the 'Erotic Society of America'. The group was led by a larger than life character, Martin, a professional photographer who drew us into ESOA after he had 'employed' Jacqui as a model. He claimed after her first photo session that Jacqui was henceforth to be regarded as his favourite model and whilst he didn't outwardly favour her with special privileges it was her availability and willingness to submit his suggestions that ensured we were always invited to the ESOA meetings where all manner of fun was to be had. The get-togethers would be either a simple drinks party; a meal at a restaurant or sometimes there would be a more elaborate party organised which had a 'theme' which we all had to contribute as players in one way or another. Martin had a great imagination and our new group of friends who, unlike us, hailed from the world of fashion and the arts were.

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