Steve spotted them as soon as they came into the bar. They looked young, but they weren’t squirrelly enough to be high schoolers with fake IDs. Sorority girls slumming? No, their clothing styles diverged too much from each other. Didn’t matter; they were new and they were hot and Steve saw them first.
There were four—no, five of them and they took a corner table. Steve kept his seat until the waitress had taken their orders so as to give them a reason not to just get up and leave. He stood up and approached the jocular group, picking out his primary and secondary targets. The blonde in the maroon sweater and yoga pants had been the first to snag his eye, but by the time he had reached the table he found himself drawn to the short redhead filling out her overalls so tantalizingly.
He kept his eyes on her until the table conversation tailed off and he looked up and smiled at the group as a whole.
“I hate to interrupt,” he said disarmingly, then turned to the redhead, “but ever since you came in here I can’t remember my name. Could you let me borrow yours?”
Continue reading “In Praise of the Blowjob-Shrink”
El Amante Menguante 