Besides, I’m not here for the conversation. We dance. Or it might be more appropriate to say I dance for him, swaying my hips, turning slowly, givin... him a good look at my tight body. When I’m sure he’s hooked, I simply turn my back to him and wait until I feel him pressing against me from behind. Grinding is much too crude a word, but in essence, it’s what is happening. I shape my mouth into words, too soft to be heard. Touch me. Feel me. You’re still nowhere to be seen, but I feel your hungry. "Phil? What the hell are you yelling about?" she said, before she saw mecowering in the chair, "What the hell are you doing here, and why is thatsitting there bawling like a baby?" She concluded, pointing at me."Well, when you told me what a sissy he was becoming, I thought I shouldfind out for myself. So, I went to where he works," he said, doing a veryconvincing job of sounding pissed. "I found out you were right, he's afucking little sissy. You should have seen the way he was acting before. More

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