Coca-cola…and tried to flirt with me as I served them. Should I invite them to the party that evening? I wondered….not sure. A bit spoiled they lo...ked, ‘Daddy’s little rich girls.’ I’d met Paris Hilton wanna-bees and, to be honest, they did my head in with their incessant chatter. ‘I was like, this, and she was like, like’, etc, etc. They were playing bad pop on a portable radio. I thought of asking them to turn it off, for the benefit of the other guests. Meanwhile another woman had come down. "Tell me that you want me to fuck you," James says. Quinn's eyes open and she looks at his desperate and lustful gaze. "I want you to fuck me," she says, sighing as Phil slips his hand right between her legs and strokes her through her jeans as the Indian man starts fiddling with her button and zip, trying to get it open. "Say it again, Quinnie. But this time say my name," James growls. "I want you to fuck me, James," she gasps as the Indian man finally gets her jeans unzipped and Phil slips. So it was that after work on Wednesday, I was at a local high school. The other coaches and I were there to be briefed by the faculty sponsor of the Academic Olympic team about what the role of academic coach was all about. There were five of us chatting casually in one of the teacher's lounges when the sponsor came in. The sponsor was a woman, and boy, what a woman! She stood about five-foot-seven and appeared to be in her early thirties, but what was striking was her figure. She was just. What was really strangewas that she hardly had any clothes on.I said sure why not, where ever she takes me has to be better thansitting on this bench with death on my shoulder like a parrot. So off wewent until we finally arrived at her farmhouse way out in the middle ofno where."So dear, how do you like my place?" she asked me."It's really nice." I responded. "Do you live here alone?" I don't have a husband, if that's what you're interested in findingout. I'm kinda more interested in girls.