Hooded, cuffed, naked to the waist,  he smelled the car, heard the sounds of the engine cooling. Her smell, that too mingled with the smell of fear in his leather clad nostrils.     The door to the entrance of the townhouse was one step up and forward. By grabbing his belt and firmly tugging, she lead him up the step. His shoes stumbled, explored and found their footing.  Softly, with a definite and solid thud, the door closed behind him. The metallic click of the door lock was unmistakable.   An anti room perhaps. Mud room? Laundry room? Utility room?   The floor was ceramic tile. He realized it when she unbuckled his belt and unfastened his pants. Without any word of command or explanation, he felt his trousers and shorts pushed to his ankles. He imagined her face near his naked crotch as he felt her gripping his leg and intuitively understood she wanted his shoes off and one leg at a time his trousers were gone. Through his socks, he felt the cold hard tile.   He almost lost his balance and fell when he felt her hair brush his inner thigh as she stood up.   He felt himself shiver in the coolness of the room but trickles of sweat ran down each side of his torso from under his armpits.   Suddenly he had the urge to pee. How would he make her understand? Unconsciously he began to dance that childish dance of holding back the yellow stream.