Ah, what subtle art foreplay was. To spark one's sense of touch was a simple matter of friction, capable by even the clumsiest of lovers. But to spark...the sense of one's imagination was a far more demanding and rewarding venture.My thoughts were interrupted as someone's electric guitar split the air with its scream. Touching the intercom button on my desk I yelled into the speaker "God Damnit Josie, we don't want to deafen the crowd tonight. After all they are paying us to listen to this noise.. So it was with held breath and light steps that I approached my friends room. I soon noticed this door was also ajar. But unlike the first, this one left a six-inch space between the door and the frame. Exactly the right amount to peer into the room unnoticed. By the time, I reached the door, my heart was pounding madly. My brain told me there was nothing to worry about, but my animalistic instincts were forcing adrenaline to course through my veins. It was not until I peered into the room that. More

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