Instead he motioned for me to come over and said in a low voice, “You’re a pitcher, right?” After a second I nodded, I guess he paid more attent...on then I thought to who did what in the back room. “Try booth twelve,” he said. “A real nice looking girl has been making the customers happy this afternoon…from the looks on their faces, she’s got talent.” Now that was news! I’d only ever seen a few of ugly dykes in this place and they were looking at the assortment of strap-ons out front….not. " "No, no, it's my fault." She was flustered and ran a hand through her hair. "I was carrying too much and something started to drop and then I don't know…I just tripped and…." "It's okay," he assured her. "I'm Clay Wilder." He held out a hand. "Oh, I'm Willow. Oakton." They shook hands and he liked the feel of hers in his. "Clay, don't you remember? You met Willow at the party last summer," Holly said. "I did?" Clay looked down at the woman before him and tried to place her. She had dark. More

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