"You are very important to me," I said. I still have no idea where this stuff came from.That hawk look came into her eyes again."You're dangerous. I a...most made a very serious mistake last night." What mistake?" I asked."Never you mind," she said. "You want some breakfast?" I want you to take off those beautiful new jammies and kiss me again," I said. I barely controlled a wince. I was quite sure I'd gone insane.She turned her head and looked at the front of the gym shorts I had worn to sleep. I made a circle with both hands — right and left — “Imagine my life is a full dinner plate.”“All right.”“Family — you and Auntie Pru and Wandy ... that’s the ribeye steak.”“Hmm.”“And friends — The McGovern and Froggy — they’re ... um ... hash browns! Nice and crispy and salty...”“Birdie...”I held up a palm; don’t interrupt the narrative. “But that wedding — that’s Brussel sprouts. If you know what I mean and I think you do.”“Clean your plate, Birdie.”One change — so subtle that a less seasoned. I also noticed she had - indeed - unbuttoned the next button on her blouse. Now, there was REALLY something to see. She left for a moment, but returned quickly. Now, she was overtly leaning forward - having figured out what I would enjoy. We talked as I ate, and I had difficulty keeping my eyes looking at hers. I leaned forward again, and she did so as well. I whispered, "Thanks - you have incredible tits!" Now, normally, I would not use such language - but thought I had little to lose. She. This guy was a block of a man carrying a ten-year-old laptop—one from the era when you needed a really big lap, and he had one. I met him in the front office and he set the laptop on Riley’s desk.“Can I help you?” I asked.“Broken,” he answered shortly. I couldn’t quite identify the slurred accent on so few words, and he wasn’t volunteering to talk more.“I don’t repair computers,” I answered. “I can give you the names of a couple of repair shops if you’d like.”“No,” he said. He seemed to be.
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