" Call me Stella." Stella." Thank you." My pleasure, Ma'am."George spoke up again then. To me. Ignoring the waiter. "He's horny, Stella. That's what h... is." George, stop it." Well, he is. Aren't you, Michael?"The waiter stood motionless for a while, and then spoke quietly, staring into my eyes. "Yes Stella. I am. Now let me leave while I can still walk." Oh, sorry Michael. Go, go." Thank you Stella. George, your wife is a very nice woman. Please look after her while I do some work." Thank you. So usual double glazing bullshit for a while and then she goes to measure up the windows. I follow her around, checking out her ass all the time trying to work out if she's got a thong on or not, and imagining pulling up that skirt to find out. She says something and I have to snap back to reality. She's caught me looking. " I said, shall we go upstairs now? To measure."Luckily she's laughing, and she leads the way up, knowing the attention she's getting. I'm drinking in the view and wishing. Susan and I had opened this new club in town and we were very pleased. Every where we looked we saw smiling people dancing and having a very good time. The line to get in was stretched out around the block. This was one of our most successful openings in years. I looked over at my beautiful dark haired partner. She was 24 about 12 years younger than me and looked very sexy in her black dress. She is tall with long shoulder length hair, a pair of very sexy legs and a dynamite figure. The dress. MILF. As John crudely put itBut he had a point.Not that I'm a lesbian. Far from it. But Monica lightens my day. She's pretty awesome, really. My manager, my mentor, she's even becoming a friend. That's why when she asked me to go on a sales pitch to a client in a far flung provincial town... I jumped at the chance. A girl needs a friend. But since I met John my friend count has dwindled. I'm not complaining. I'm happily married. But Monica gives me a social outlet to express.But I don't have a.