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The embittered relationship between two old friends evolves.


"Oh," she sounded slightly disappointed. "I heard those guys make a lot of money."

"They do. I make more," I said honestly.

With that she leaned forward, obviously intrigued. The movement pressed her ample breasts against the edge of the table, causing them to swell and strain against the ivory fabric of her top. It made my dick twitch in my pants. The drinks and the steak had me nicely relaxed, and now I was starting to think about satisfying a much higher need.

"I heard they get to travel a lot. Do you? Where have you been?" her voice was filled with obvious excitement and enthusiasm.

"I travel all over." I said. "All over the states for sure. But I've been around the world."

"Where?" Her excitement gave her a girlish tint.

"Let's see... Ive been to Canada and Mexico. I've been to England, France, Spain." I listed the places I had been, eventually coming around to the more exotic places like South Africa, Somalia, China. I left off Chile, though. I never talk about Chile.

She was awash with questions. She couldn't wait long enough to get the answer to one before she asked another. Many of them were about tourist attractions at these places. Had I seen the Tower of London, the Arch de Triumph? I slowly explained to her that my work usually didn't allow me to see the tourist places. But I was so taken by her enthusiasm that I began to tell her what I did look for.

I told her how I liked to look for the differences between one culture and another. I told her I like to compare traditions and hospitality. I told her that for me travel was about the people I got to meet, not the places. I told her what it was like to get a drink made fresh for you on the side of the road in Matanzas. I talked about the nightlife in Cape Town. I talked about what it was like to be fitted for a suit in a shop in Savile Row.

She drank up every word, like a dying person in the desert. She was aching for it. She needed it like a person needs air. The shape of things became all too apparent to me, after a few minutes. She had lived her whole life and never traveled. It was her biggest fantasy. It was what she had longed for. It was the thing she wanted more than anything. When she got enough money saved... When she had her big chance... It was her heart's desire.

"So where do you want to travel to?" No sooner than the question was out of my mouth, she launched into a massive explanation of all the places she wanted to go.

She wanted to go to strange places for strange reasons. She wanted to go to Lisbon because she had heard the sand is pink. I almost told her it was more tan than pink, but thought better of it. She wanted to eat at a pizza place in Napoli, because she has read about it in a book. She was going to go all over, but it was always because of something she had seen on the TV or in a romance novel she had read.

"I think my time is up," I said. "Even if it isn't, you've been more than accommodating." I knew she wasn't done with me yet, but I wanted her to ask me to stay.

"No," she said a little too quickly. "I want to hear more about the places you've been. How about another drink? On me!"

"No, it's on me," I said. I wasn't ready to leave yet either. "Why don't you total me out, and fix us another couple of drinks. I need to use the restroom."

"Yeah, okay." I gave her some cash and left for the bathroom. When I took myself out to piss I noted the head of my penis was slick. I had gotten more aroused than I had realized, staring at her breasts. I wiped it off, careful not to stimulate it too much. I didn't want to walk out of with a raging hard on. I emptied my bladder and zipped up, washed my hands and returned to the dining room.

Two surprises awaited me when I got there. The first is that she had made us two very large drinks. The Jack Daniels she had poured for me was easily a quadruple measure. I made a note to take it easy. I didn't want to be too drunk to drive, or to enjoy myself, for that matter.

The second was far more pleasant, and not at all subtle.

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