A thong. Whatever you call them. A piece of material so thin it barely covered her crack. “Oh, sweet Jesus,” Gerrard said to himself. He couldn�...t believe what he was seeing. And there she was looking back at him from that position and smiling at him. “Like what you see?” Charlie asked him. Gerrard tried to stay all professional. “Might I suggest clothing a little more appropriate to the job in hand?” He regretted saying that, too. Not surprising given the swelling in his crotch. Charlie. We settled into our drinks and conversation, letting the vibes settle down between us, falling into a comfortable zone very quickly with each other. He asked me to dance when the small Jazz combo began playing some very good, slow, Bluesy-type tunes, the kind that make you want to dance, you know?He was a good dancer, easy to follow, nice to hold onto as we glided across the semi-crowded floor. His arousal, through his dress slacks, couldn't be hidden or ignored, and I leaned against his. More

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