Two waiters fiddled with setups at the far end of the dining room. Alone in front of the bar stood Mr. Z, arms folded across his chest, his face expre...sionless, as though he'd never met me before. Never mind he'd never been a cuddly guy or an outwardly warm father in his interactions with his daughters, but he'd at least acknowledged my existence before now. He'd even attended a couple of my games, and my parents and I had watched some of the girls' soccer matches."Hello, Mr. Z." I knew better. "Is it... available to for a date? How... about to be in love... is it available for that?"I didn't bother to hesitate with my answer, "it's available for *some* kind of sex, I think."The brushing continued, occasionally interrupted by Jenny's fingers petting my hair. "I love the soft feeling of hair across my nipples, have you ever felt that?" Was she talking to me? She must have been judging by my rapidly weakening state."No." I blushed. "But the idea sounds nice. And of course my nipples. More

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