.. NOTHING! The damned thingwouldn't start! I popped the hood, lifted it and looked inside. Not thatI could do anything, I wouldn't know a carbeurator...from a fluxcapicitor!I stood there in total panic! I didn't have the money for a tow, oreven a cab home, living 35 miles away. Then a very masculine voice said"Having problems honey?" I jumped in surprise, but recognized the voiceas one of the regulars of the ABS, Steve, a man I had often had thepleasure of blowing."Let me have a look," he said. “As it’s such a lovely day,” Martina said, “John and I thought that tapas and sangria would make a nice lunch.” Jack and I agreed, and a couple of minutes later a stunning young woman in her late teens wearing a maids outfit brought out two large glass jugs of fruit laden sangria and some tall glasses half filled with chunks of ice. “Gracias Maria,” Martina said, and after a few more visits there was a wonderful array of dishes before us. John filled our glasses, and we started helping. It was a private event at a club I had never heard of before. Carley andJill were greeted by the manager and we were escorted to a nice boothdown front. A hot little red-haired waitress came to take our drinkorders--some fancy-schmancy wine for the ladies and a couple of highballsfor Peter and me.The waitress came back with the drinks and batted her eyes as sheinformed us that as part of the prize, the drinks were on the house. Ahot-to-trot waitress and free booze? Okay, so maybe the night. Your arm was around me, rubbing your fingers up and down my arm, my hand settled on your chest, trailing my fingers along your ribs. Your other arm was holding my leg over yours, gently playing with the fabric of my dress on my hip. We just chatted for a while, enjoying being together, our bodies close. We rarely had the same Saturday off from work, so being able to spend a weekend out together was kind of rare for us, especially since your boss had you working so much overtime lately. It was.
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