There was something that looked like it came out of the 1930’s; something pretty typical for the channel that was on. He saw it was some old musical... “Let’s watch this.”She squeezed in a little closer, laid her hand on his really hard really erect penis, “You sure you don’t want?”He moved her hand, “I do, but I want to think too.”She let her hand rest on his thigh, “OK.”Together they cuddled up and started to watch Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire dance. Neither knew who the actors were. It. The couple in the booth is Sean and me, but we made it dark so you couldn’t tell, only that we were making out hot and heavy. Those scenes all got overlaid and blended into the computer model.”Stacy was mute but looking at me with a star struck look. Elsa caught her looking at me and smirked without her seeing. I knew what my girlfriend was thinking.I complimented the architects on the simulation, and their design of the club. A more traditional presentation done in PowerPoint followed. I got. I really hoped that this would go well for Jonathan, and had butterflies in my stomach the entire day as he got to work. It took great restraint from me, not to pop into the workshop and check out how he was doing during the day. I knew that he already had enough pressure on him, without an anxious onlooker looking over his shoulder.At the day’s end, my boss gave me a simple wink of approval as we were leaving. That simple gesture was worth its weight in gold. I had never wished more for. And what he was telling her seemed so true."I like people to watch me," she admitted, and it felt heavenly."You like people to look at you," he continued. "You even like it when they stare at your tits."Her nipples seemed to perk up at their mention. That wasn't true, was it? But the confusion started closing in around her, oppressing, suffocating."Admit it, Gretchen," the therapist pressed. "You want people to stare at your tits."Gretchen grabbed the lifeline he threw her."Yes!" she exclaimed..