She could feel her hand ready to apply the final pressure to activate whatever the button may activate, when the screen monitor suddenly flashed up in huge red letters, the phrase:DON'T PUSH THE BUTTONThis was followed by a digital timer appearing on screen just below the instruction, which began to count down from twenty minutes. Needless to say, Susan's hand immediately retracted itself from the button. She didn't know whether it was a good idea to follow the orders of whom Susan assumed could only be her captor, but as it seemed that she had twenty minutes to come up with a game plan for escape, she decided it was best not to rush a decision.The thought occurred that if one of the panels in this room were false, there was a possibility that more were. Maybe she could track down a door or air vent through which to escape. Susan returned to the walls to feeling for clues but was soon stopped in her tracks by a burning sensation sweeping over her skin. Her dress felt like it was on. "Michelle, you're wanted on the phone." Thanks, I'll be right down." I bounded down the stairs two at a time.It was a different experience for me to have women as friends. A man typically doesn't make friends with a woman unless she's a co-worker or an in-law, or he wants to date her or do her or marry her. Often one of those five possibilities leads to some of the others. But as a woman with Lillith and Natalie and Gina the Silly Monkey drummer as friends, I felt a complete absence of the sexual tension that marks a man's relationships with women. In fact, even though I still thought of sex, I didn't think of it nearly as often as I did when I was a man, not even as much as when I was a middle-aged man. When I did think of sex, I was thinking mostly of stroking myself. I was still discovering my new self as a sexual being.I took the phone extension in the living room, dropped myself lazily on the sofa, and answered. "This is Michelle." Hey, dude, it's Gina."We chatted and chatted.
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