Vicky's A Blast

The powder had an acrid smell that burned my eyes and throat. I hesitantly returned her embrace to partially shield my face. The back of the dress I just complimented was mostly blown off and my hand brushed lightly against something hard in the small of her back. A mild shock ran up my arm and my jaw clenched against my will.

As if I needed a reminder of how ridiculous my situation had become, a small piece of cotton with half of a purple flower on it floated past my gaze on its way to the debris party taking place at our feet.

I struggled to back away but Vicky, still kissing my neck, did not release her hold on me. What was disturbing is that there was no passion in her act of kissing. In fact, she seemed to be repeating a pattern starting below my left ear, then near my collar bone and then under my chin. The same triangle of three kisses over and over, faster with each pass.

Ok. Now I was officially worried. I had been curious about her odd behavior but now I wanted to be somewhere else. Now!

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