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He looked up from staring at the floor's tiles and craned his neck around, saw me and widened his eyes in nervous attentiveness."What's wrong?" I fought to be heard over the noise.Confusion sat on his face for a moment. "Oh! Right." He shook his head, putting some motion into fluffy, light hair. "Nothing. This is my neutral state." He chuckled at his self-deprecation.I don't think my face showed anything. "Do you have a date?" April twenty-second."I was embarrassed to smile at the joke, but I couldn't help it. I held a hand out to him, which he puzzled at for a moment, clearly not sure whether to take it seriously, and then took it.I stood us from the table and moved not in toward the rest of the dancers, but outward to the nearest wall. The little light-haired Harry Potter-alike was led by the hand, by me, into those shadows where I had at some point in the last ten seconds decided to try to claim him. I don't remember why I felt it had to be that way, but there I placed one of his. And I also knew that not any woman would excite me as a slave, but a very specific woman. I'll explain later.My cousin did finally stop frowning and his head bobbed quickly, "God that would be great cuz! Wow. Would you do that?"I took a deep breath and realized my body was slowly coming back under control. The reason, because I had analysed the passionate images and feelings running through my blood and I wasn't about to let any adolescent boy control my fantasy. I shrugged, "Even with those photos its hard to believe Aunt Kay was your slave Greg." I concentrated on my breathing, as to slow my rapid heartbeat.He looked a little surprised, after his story and the photos, that I would still dispute his claims. In truth, though it was rather a difficult concept to believe, I did indeed. Or perhaps, I just wanted to believe, for my own selfish reasons.Before he could start trying to convince me I spoke up, "I have to see it with my own eyes or its just too unbelievable." Sure." He was.
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