It really was a bore to watch. Which was why I seldom went with him to the piano bar, though I did enjoy it when I went.I was truly looking forward to it on that Saturday night. Well it really was only hormones I guessed. The two women were doing a duet of something modern. I liked music that sounded like music, not people shouting obscenities to a throbbing beat, and pretending that it was music. What the two of them were doing, was a tamer version of that. But it still lacked any semblance of poetry.Now and then they did Billy Joel or the Beetles or the Stones. Those I enjoyed and of course the show tunes I recognized. So I was having a pleasant evening when the daughter approached me while she was on a break. She led me over to a table where a very young man was seated."Sylvia, I would like for you to meet my friend Brian. Brian this is Sylvia," she said shyly."Sylvia I have researched you. When Chrissy said you were willing to have sex with us. I researched you and wow, you are. His smile widens, small wrinkles at the corners of his eyes giving away that he is a little over forty already, twice my age. “I am so happy that you came, Christine,” he tells me and takes a step closer, his voice as dark as his short trimmed hair. He’s everything I saw in the pictures he has sent me and more, and my knees grow weak when his hands gently wrap around my shoulders. He leans forward and my eyes widen. For a moment, I think that he will kiss me, and panic and desire battle inside me with an intensity I have never felt before. But he only touches his cheek to mine and whispers, “The photos didn’t do your beauty justice.” ‘Neither did yours,’ I want to say in return, but I’m too afraid that all he gets to hear will be a needful moan from shaking lips, so I swallow hard and stammer, “Thank you, Robert.” He leans back, but his hands still hold me rooted to the spot without effort. “You seem to be nervous.” I feel his eyes roam up my body, starting with my painted toenails.
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