She was a beautiful blonde haired blue-eyed woman. She was wearing a green blouse with a white skirt that was just long enough to cover her curvy, wel...l tanned ass. If she was taller, she would be a fine piece of work. I prefer not to call women ‘pieces of work’, but I’m sort of lazy and I’d rather not say ‘A piece of artwork’. Anyways, back to my friend. She strolled up with a big smile on her face and clambered up into the cab of my truck. After saying our Hi, how are you’s, I couldn’t help. ” Ben tried to buy some time, as he worked out some sort of strategy to cope with the situation. “Yes, I sleep in pyjamas, in the winter,” he said. “I bet you do. Or maybe in the summer, with nothing?” “Pardon? Nothing?” “Like when the nights become hot and you just want the breeze from the window. Then I sleep in nothing. Is the same for you?” “No… yes!” “No… yes? What you mean, Ben? Is the thought of me in nothing making you happy?” “No!” “No? Then why are you not mending my drawer? Do you. The burning turned into a cough that quickly morphed into a gaggingsound, like a sorority girl who just tried to show off by guzzling a Solocup full of cheap liquor. Stinging bile rose up into my throat, causing meto throw off the blanket and drop to my knees on the floor, scrambling toget to the white plastic wastebasket sitting nearby.I just managed to get my arms around it as the remains of my lunch surgedout of my mouth and splattered the inside of the container with a nausea-enhancing. Yet they had a strength about them; an enticing dexterity that made me wish he was tapping them in a far more intimate place—a place that was growing warmer and wetter with each flex of his graceful knuckles. Perhaps he had a hobby or a vocation that required strong fingers. Maybe he was a pianist or a masseuse. I sighed in relief when I found no ring on his left hand, although I was baffled as to how anyone attached to those exquisite hands could possibly be single. As he held out his credit.