It was Paige.She had a fresh bottle of Oban in one hand, and a brown manila envelope in the other. She looked like she worked for Dial-a-Bottle.“Uh�...� hi,” I murmured, noncommittally.“Hi!” she responded chirpily. “You up for company?”I studied her. She seemed anxious. I almost said, “Not tonight,” and then thought again.Might as well, I sighed to myself. Besides, I’m out of single malt.“You want some omelette?” I asked, and opened the door wider.__________________After dinner, we sat in the. After calming a bit she put her head down in the guy's lap giving him a blow job. Then he zipped up and they left.I loved that experience (though I would have preferred to be the guy she was with) and hoped for more. And, in fact, I got to see such play quite a few times now that I was paying attention. It especially got good when I found some small porn theaters in Hollywood that ran 16mm movies instead of the big screen stuff. The movies were less “acted” and the people in them often weren't. More

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