Get her to play with herself

Shit! You were so busy trying to keep Dahlia occupied by licking her Coochie that you have no idea when she spat out the acid tab… You know that this stuff is strong, as you get to your feet even the regular acid you took yourself is starting to have an effect on you: colors dancing, sounds morphing to smells, the weirdly unshakable feeling that you have a personal connection to the lampshade or the Hindu goddess on Dahlia's hanging tapestry. Yeah, you’re tripping, so Dahlia has to be, too. The question is… Is it already enough to send her over the edge?

"Hold up. Just keep playing with yourself," you try to bide your time. Dahlia doesn’t heed, so you jazz up your smooth talk. "I mean, damn baby, you have such a nice little slit. I could eat it all day, but I wanna see how you work yourself. Do you know what I mean?" Dahlia nods lazily, her fingers drifting down towards her snatch but stopping short. "Come on girl, let me see you work at that nice little slit. Come on? Do it for me, baby?"

"I… I don’t…" Dahlia is tripping hard, her brown eyes unfocused and darting around anxiously. You’re almost afraid you’re gonna lose her, but she finally settles her gaze on a nondescript spot on the ceiling, her gel tab Fingernails partying her pussy lips and her fingers going to work on her sex. Dahlia moans and starts to play with herself as you instruct, but she's still clearly agitated, the acid is having a bad effect on her. Which is sort of the intention...

You come up with a plan, there’s a back up strip just in case: half regular and half overdose LSD. Trying to not draw attention to yourself, you egg Dahlia's masturbation on while you sidestep towards your **** delivery rucksack, and enough acid hits to send Jimi Hendrix to Mars.

"Hell yeah, that’s hot. Keep working that nice little slit, girl." You use the most seductive tone you can. You’re almost to your bag. But, just then, Dahlia stops, and her eyes look from you to the ceiling to her pussy and she stops fingering her hippie gap. "Oh, come on, beautiful. Close your eyes and relax, I just want to watch this amazingly hot sight in front of me for a second. I’ll get back to you, just want to silence this phone."

Dahlia‘s eyes flutter shut and she uses her index and middle finger to sluice in and out of her dripping wet cunny. It is quite the sight, the nappy haired brunette, almost naked except for her necklace and glasses, the all too familiar wet sounds of her schlicking filling the apartment. Dahlia throws her head back and groans, but again it’s half exasperation and half pleasure. These are gonna be some of the most fucked up orgasms she ever experiences.

You get the tab of acid and rip it in half, then again into a quarter. Hope you’re getting the right sheet, but it won’t really matter because even all these doses of the regular stuff would give Jerry Garcia nightmares. If it’s the overdose stuff? This chick is retarded for life...

"Hnngh, ngh, nice... little slit..." Dahlia grunts and bites her lip, leaning back on the couch and digging her slit out with long, scooping motions. She’s clearly hyperstimulated from all the **** and foreplay, but her brain is also sending her danger signals, and she abruptly unearths her digits from her snatch with a growl of frustration, staggering unsteadily to her feet.

"Oh, hey, wait a minute baby." Shit, you’re sort of losing the handle on this one…

"Where are you going?"

Dahlia is taking shaky steps away from you, fleeing the overwhelming mindbreaking situation, or at least attempting to. "I don’t… I just…" She stutters and covers her breasts, her hands are visibly shaking. "It’s just. I’m sorry. It’s just too much. I need to…"

Dahlia's eyes fly around the room, from the front door to the couch to her discarded clothing to you, and finally she turns and intently moves towards a door deeper in the apartment.

"Hey, wait! It- it’s cool," you call after her.

"Sorry, just give me a minute. I need to use the bathroom or…"

Dahlia disappears into what you presume is her bedroom, failing to close the door shut behind herself. You’re at a crossroads here. Do you let Dahlia collect herself and come out? Do you follow her into the room?