There was a bit of an awkward silence as we sat there drinking our vodka. She was watching me now, leaning her elbow on the bar with her hand through ...er hair. I could see her in the corner of my eye but pretended not to and continued nursing my drink. She put her other hand on mine and said something like "Why do you come here every night? You're a young lad you should be out having fun." I didn't respond at first then said "Is that your way of telling me to fuck off?" With a fake offended. I'll call you when they're ready, okay?" At Jeff's nod, she knocked and entered.Jeff had to force himself to stop pacing. He leaned back against the wall, bringing a foot up behind him. He hadn't been this nervous while waiting and wondering if the fire department would get to Ingles' house too early. What the crap will Diana say — not to mention my other wives? Hell, how about Dave and Evie? I can just hear Evie laughing now.Oh, shit. The General has broken it off in my ass for real, and I. The door had a bell that tinkled as they entered. It was a huge store, brightly lit, with display cases, dozens of mannequins, and a couple of salesgirls who looked to be barely out of high school. One of them, a black woman with hair dyed a deep shade of purple, came over. Despite the winter weather outside, she wore a bikini top, hipster pants, and stilettos with five inch heels. The top was barely able to cover her bouncing boobs, barely big enough to hold her gold name tag. Shaniqua, it. This was getting more interesting by the minute. She began to run her fingers throughhis hair, and stood in front of him so that her breasts were level with his eyes. “Can you still masturbate now, or did you mean that the stress wasn’t letting you?” “Oh, I still can, it just doesn’t feel as good as it once did.” He was getting more comfortable with the sudden twist of conversation, it seemed. “I bet I sound rather silly to you now,”“Not at all. It’s not something you need to be ashamed of.”.