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Her mind kept returning to Doug, his presence so palpable all day. He was so nice, so friendly. She thought how she felt a little tingle when his fingers touched hers, how his eyes mesmerized her. She wondered if his moustache would tickle or feel sexy touching her. Her eyes flew open. Oh, my! Such thoughts! She reminded herself that she was only a job to him, and that he thought of her as a kid. Looking at her body in the bubbly bath, she thought her breasts were anything but childish. Her fingers slipped below the bubbles and found her curlies. She combed them with her fingertips, thinking that was, indeed, womanly too. She shook her head to clear all these thoughts and stepped from the tub. She dressed in one of her new gowns, a baby blue that clung to her breasts and fell to the floor in soft gathers. She left her hair pinned up from the bath and went into her bedroom. It was a lovely night, the fairy lights twinkling outside her windows. Betsy walked through the darkened house. His playful witty ways suggest that he is, but they could be simple routines, automations that he has practiced on a hundred girls. She’ll see how he handles himself, and knows ahead of time that tonight will provide for quite the interesting adventure, regardless of outcome. After all, she thinks a big glumly, if he is a moron, she always has her rabbit and a new pack of duracells at home. After all, why put up with a sweaty, possibly disease carrying guy if his intelligence is no greater than her vibrators, moreover she *knows* the rabbit will get her off - an idiot has maybe a 50-50 chance. -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- Oh ho, David thought, time for the interview. Becky looked at him with smoldering anticipation, an eager audience. Which is more than he could say about the last woman he'd had dinner with. She was a friend of a friend and had conducted herself through dinner as if she had a clipboard below the table with its long list of questions outlined in various colored inks..
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