He has on blue jeans, nothing fancy, though they fit his shape perfectly. He is pale and tall - really tall - or maybe that's just my perspective. His...hair is dark blond; it is longer than most men would wear their hair, shaggy, but not messy. He is skinny, from what I can tell. I see no tattoos or piercings as I scan over him. His blue eyes look at me, almost doing the same as I am to him. "Why me, though? How did you find me? Just let me go, I promise I won't tell anyone, just let me go," I. Bits and pieces came back to me from that dream. Red hair. Milky white breasts. Hands in my hair. A gift. "crazy dream" I thought, tossing my shirt on. The routine began, as it always does, with the pies. Before I was even done with them, a familiar voice said "Hey Mike. How you doing tonight?". "Pretty good. Same shit..." Different day." she giggled. "I thought you were off tonight, Marsha. Need some last second milk? Eggs? Or the usual Italian loaf?" Nope. I'm here to say, thank you." came. More

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