I like a fat one that jiggles when she walks. I like tight, round melons-halves. I like ones that stick out so far you could balance a beer bottle on ...hem. I like ones shaped like an up-side-down heart. I like to watch a woman walk away, seeing her ass covered with a silky material, catching and reflecting the light. Or dressed in white pedal-pushers, stretched so tight you think the seam will rip. Or in a pair of black tights that fit up her ass-crack and hug each half-globe. I guess you could. He could wait. When he saw Bob Cartwright walk by, he knew everyone was gone. Bob was always the last to leave before LaRain… then him. He was the first to arrive, always wanting to see her when she walked in, and he made sure he was the last to leave, so he could watch that tight ass wiggling as she left. Five o’clock. ‘Oh,’ she said, again noticing him as she turned off her computer. ‘Dennis, right?’ He nodded his head. ‘Have dinner with me tonight.’ She tilted her head a bit, but didn’t. More

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