"The place it's coming from. If it's coming from a wholesome place. They're coming from in their heart. You know, it wouldn't be such a huge deal if he was sleeping around. I trust him. It would be purer, you know? It's different," says the blond girl with sleepy blue eyes.
"What are you saying? I shouldn't mind letting somebody fuck her in front of me," he says from across the table, adjusting his dark framed glasses.
"I think it's awesome," says the other guy at the table before taking a sip of his fresh squeezed OJ.
"If they're gonna do it, they're gonna do it," says the girl.
"No. I'd take offense to it," says the first guy.
Nobody says anything for a minute.
"Weird silence," adds the girl fidgeting with the cheese in her eggs.
"No. No. That wouldn't work for me. It's different. But she was saying she wouldn't do it," insists the first guy.
"But..." starts number three, "I flew my ex-fiance to Venice. We're both really jet lagged. So, I asked her if she wanted to get a massage. There was one right there by the airport. So, the masseusse she was massaging me and asks, 'You want special massage? You want special massage?'" He adjusts the hat he's wearing and continues, "And Michelle was next door."
"Did you tell her?" asks the other guy.
"No. I got a special massage. And I felt guilty."
Copyright by Rachel Drews, 2011. All rights reserved. Any excerpts reproduced from this article should include links to the original.
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