Down in the printing press. Whether you want to admit it or not,working as one of the girls on the 48th floor is a hell of a lot morerewarding than wo...king as one of my fabricators in the printing press onthe 5th. The money is better. The hours are better, and you can decidehow often you work. The day-to-day is always different, alwaysinteresting... and, more often than not, it's considerably moreenjoyable than sweating away in front of a loud machine all day long.Let me ask you something:. ”“It's simple. It's like Friends With Benefits! We love each other as family and we love each other's bodies so why not just love that? Relatives With Benefits!"“But the fact remains. I'm still forty years older than you”.“But this is not”, she squeezed my cock in her fist. “This is younger and more handsome than any I've met so far and I want to do everything to it. Now get off me and get on your back so I can show you!”I did as I was told and rolled off onto the bed. As she stood up and. Hawthorn, and Mr. Jones agreed to let me wear the gun if it did not interfere with my work. I assured him that it would not and grabbed the broom to start sweeping up the mess on the floor.I had just begun to mop the floor, starting at the back of the room, when Mr. Hawthorn came in the door. He ordered a whiskey with a beer chaser, showing that he was mighty upset about something. That was when he saw me in the mirror behind the bar and screamed, "HIRAM THOMAS, YOU SON OF A BITCH! THE DOCTOR. He's no boy but he'll do." He squeezed her hand and looked into her eyes, smiling suggestively. She leered back, objecting, "Jerry!" Barbara turned her shoulder, blocking the conversation and avoiding the pointed suggestion in Jerry's remark. Since that night at the cabaret in Las Vegas, they had found sharing a crossdresser's mouth to be a fulfilling hobby. Cruising their own downtown had revealed a sidewalk marketplace of sex workers, crossdressing males having a constant place in the random.