His eyes on her breasts like stops on an organ and then as her nodded answer to his unspoken question, his fingers slithered over the soft mounds, the... the nipples, rubbery nubs that he had only dreamed of, like a blind man reading brail he read the areola, then the nubs, hefted the soft sacs played with the things, sucked on them, nibbled at them and just enjoyed the whole effect. She lay back, her eyes closed, whether with enjoyment or embarrassment, who knows, but for quite a while, time. “Why not?” I stared at her, my eyes almost popping out of my head. She was right; I’d never really thought about it, not seriously. But now that the seed had been planted… Why not? Just then the director’s voice boomed through the megaphone. “Okay – five minutes, everyone! Laura, Tom – two minutes in hair and make-up each, then you’re up.” She got to her feet and leaned toward my ear. “The Meridian Hotel, seven o’clock,” she whispered. “Suite 1203.” Then she winked at me and sashayed. More

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