"Are you sure. You look like you're working." I'm not." Art knew what danger he was in. If either Doyle or Marcusfigured out what he was they wouldn't hesitate to end him. He knew heshould run.He knew he should be terrified. He knew he should be offendedby the idea that he was a prostitute, but he wasn't. Inside Art's heartwas fluttering. They thought he was a girl. They didn't recognise himand they thought he was a girl. It had worked. He was passing."Look, I don't care if you're not working. Just means we don't have topay you. Get in the car!" Marcus was seething in the passenger seat car.Art steeled himself. He bent down slightly, looking past Doyle and overtowards Marcus."No." The passenger door was open in a flash. Marcus stood up, glaringacross the roof of the car. Art straightened back up to look at himagain."Fair enough. We'll just do it out here" Marcus slammed the car door andbegan to stomp his way around the back of the car. Art tensed again. Hehad gone too far. He would. Did he really want her to fuck another man? Or did it just excite him to say that? She knew, though, it wasn't all Mike's fault. The Game excited her too. But it was scary. She couldn't believe how fast things had gone the last time. One moment, she was dancing with Keith, and the next, he was sucking her nipples and trying to pull down her pantyhose. Jen knew she had come close to getting fucked. Mike knew too, and he was gleeful by the thought. Jen didn't really know how she felt. Her husband was encouraging her to fuck other men. But did he really mean it? Did she want to become an adulteress — a hot wife? She stirred the lemon in her ice tea, remembering how it felt to cup Keith's crotch. It was so big. And so hard. She shuddered again.Jen was brought out of her reverie when Laura arrived. "I'm so sorry for being late, traffic was terrible," she said as she slid into her chair. They ordered drinks and chatted about neighborhood gossip, as they munched on breadsticks.Laura's eyes.
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