" Be right back. Menu?" No, not right now."By one o'clock in the morning Cindy was still sitting at the bar sipping on yet another Dewers and ice and ...he was drunk. "Gimme another one John." Sorry Cindy, no can do." What? Why not?" Because you're drunk, that's why." Well fuck you John, I'll go somewhere else and spend my money." Look Cindy, no bartender is going to serve you. I don't know what your problem is but it has to be serious, now why don't you go home and sleep it off." I don't have a. I wanted an adult relationship -- a 25-year-old car and gun nut was my dream date.One thing I knew for sure is that a stoner like Michael Wright had no place in my life; if anyone was truly Mr. Wrong, it was Wright. He had the long hair that seemed to be part of the stoner dress code, his pale skin had never seen the sun and he often had what I heard called in a movie the 1,000-yard stare. The fact that he spoke to me at all irritated me; the only reason I ever spoke to him at all was because. “I won't, Ma'am. Thank you so much.”“Think of me when you're sore tomorrow,” I purred, leaning forward to kiss the top of her head. Oh my God, how had I not noticed how good she smelled before now? I guess I hadn't been this close to her. My teeth bared, wanting to take a mouthful of her hair, her skin, anything, and I stepped back before this session floated away from being a punishment. “All right. Go home and be a good girl. I'll see you next Thursday.”She looked like a protest was forming. He guided it lower, pushing the head right against the opening to her body. Trudy was suddenly afraid, but she wanted it more than any fear could inspire her to want to stop what was happening.“Are you ready?” he asked, gazing into her eyes.The fact that he had paused to ask such a thing cinched the love she felt for him. She nodded. With his eyes still locked on hers, he pushed forward.At first, it didn’t feel like anything was happening. There was pressure, and that felt good all by.