“Why’d you call me?”“Insurance. Think I could get insurance on my whores?”“Health insurance?”“I guess. The kind that pays me when they...can’t work. Loss of income insurance.”I sighed. “Harold. Prostitution is illegal. Your whores are just over the Age of Consent.” “I was white, I could get insurance.”I didn’t respond, just continued looking at him. His turn to sigh, “Maybe not.”The subject of insurance was interesting though. I wonder if, probably not, he could get health insurance for his. That’s when he became aware of a dull pain emanating from his groin—his penis had become like an iron bar. Tom pushed the tablet so it faced away as he tried to control his labored breathing; then he realized he could still hear the girl speaking.“That was awesome, Martin. Now it’s your turn. Shit, you’re big; mmmm, let me suck it in...”Tom tore off the headset and leaned back in his chair, sighing.“Shit!“ he thought. “Fuck, that hurts!“ and he tried adjusting himself to relieve the pressure in. Both our daughters, as it happened, for their part were being entertained together with the three other teenagers, by some rather cute Sidhe amorphals who spent the evening being every imaginable person the girls wanted to meet; pop stars, boys from school, film stars, you name it. We lost sight of them when they decided to accept the offer of riding on the backs of the equine Sidhe 'Epon, ' across the grassy plains to the South of our forest clearing. I smiled and wondered to myself how much. ” Ben said tapping his desk for emphasis.“Thank you. That helps a lot. I was expecting myself to be like you and Tom and John. I was sweating because I’m nowhere close.”“The biggest difference is experience and that takes time. You’ll be fine. Have you figured out who’s marrying who? The clock’s ticking.”Kevin’s exasperation was obvious. “You’re telling me. It feels like one of those I lose either way deals. If I piss Meghan off, she might cut off my Greasy Taters.”“WHAT!”Kevin chuckled then.