As we ate, I couldn’t help but notice that Mr. Simpson, Paul, kept looking at me. He would turn away when I would catch his eye; he was definitely c...ecking me out. He tried to be subtle but he was obviously into me. He kept turning the conversation to me, asking me where I was going to college and if I had boyfriends. Mrs. Simpson seemed to be annoyed with all the attention he was paying me. Every time I called him Mr. Simpson, he would correct me that is was Paul. Mrs. Simpson’s annoyance. I fucked it up, on stage, then I got stage fright and fucked it up worse. The guys backing her up tried to rescue me, but it was bad. The people in the club, who had paid good money for the show, were not happy, didn't think I was cute. didn't applaud me for trying. mom was pissed, too. This is how she makes her living, and she is a real bitchy perfectionist about everything that happens on stage, even though she is taking huge risks every time she sings a note.So part of me felt like an ugly. .. "nooooo, sir ... you get to see as soon as we go home..." I laughed and said "PROMISE?", getting a slap on my butt for my eagerness.When we reached the car, I grabbed her and kissed her repeatedly, with her melting completely in my embrace. Kimberly looked into my eyes and said... "there is no way we can top this ... I'm very, very happy right now..." I finally let go of her, but kept my right hand inside her near leg, as we drove back to the house. I directed her to take White Street, then. Suddenly Eriel was there. He insinuated himself between Ashriel and the girl and slid his goggles and mask off. “Hi,” he said in a deep seductive voice. The girl’s eyes snapped to his face, her frowning mouth dropping open a bit. Eriel tilted his head a bit, letting his fake deep red hair slither over one of his shoulders. “Where are you headed?” The girl began to chew her gum again nervously. “My mama told me never to talk to pleasure workers.” Eriel chuckled, squaring his shoulders..