"They're not titties, Dub," she said patiently. "They're called breasts." Or boobs," he said. "That's what you called them. Do I get to see your boobs...again?"Normally, Angela would have been disgusted with a man who was so blatantly transparent in his lust. For some reason, though, Dub seemed different. He seemed more genuinely appreciative of her body, than intent on using and abusing it. And somehow, that made Angela feel good, rather than unhappy."Will it help if you can see my breasts?" she. This just got very personal. As I left the bathroom I stumbled and fell toward the table, catching myself and rolling a little bit into the empty seat in the booth. I slightly slurred my words as I apologized for interrupting them and asked if I could rest there until my head cleared in a minute. I introduced myself as John, a machinery salesman from Chicago. He introduced himself a Paul, he said he was here in town looking for a new job. After I got done with him, he wouldn’t need a job for. More

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