Quincy’s eyes slid shut at the soothing noise, and he allowed his head to loll around against the headrest. “You have a lovely voice.” His voice...was rough as sleep threatened to take him.She laughed. “Thanks.”He shrugged. “I’ve no voice of my own. I make a smoker sound lovely.”“Who’d have thought you had such a sense of humor. You always seemed so… somber.”He shrugged. “My job isn’t that exciting. No need for humor.”“I think lack of excitement is where humor is needed most.” She drove past the. Every table was very large with a pole in the middle of it. Down the pole slide a girl or a woman. The pole dancers rotated around the tables throughout the evening. Males and female guests could relax in the playroom and be themselves.The playroom offered a menu of services, a male or female patron could order a girl or woman for “under the table” services while sipping their drinks and talking about work or while a dancer shook their tits and ass in their face. They could order “take-out”,. More

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