Thursday, June 05, 2008
Callousness
Daisy knew me from a time where I was more of someone else’s girlfriend than a lover.
Daisy has known me for almost a good decade now. She is my best friend in this part of the world in Sad Town. In the past, we saw each other everyday and even during the time where we initially both moved to Sydney separately but around the same time. But she returned to Sad Town six months later. Like V and B, she knew everything about my life.
Prior to last week when she drove down from Sad Town to visit me in Sydney before we drove back here again, Daisy and I must have not seen each other for almost a year. With the number of rainchecks we took to catch up and the missed calls that I never returned (as I bury myself in depression in Sydney and she too have personal issues to tackle), time has simply slipped through our hands.
During the course of the last few days, Daisy and Tina (my other best friend in Sad Town) tried asking me about recent “updates” of my romantic sexcapades and flings. I gave Daisy a quick overview in the form of a one-liner summary and said no more. If asked to comment about the sex, I would simply rate the experience as “good” or “not too good”. I didn’t try adding colour to the profiles of these people as I was wont to be descriptive in the old days.
Last night, the 3 of us girls were having our usual girl talk about the birds and the bees. It started with me coming up with creative ideas for Tina to re-kindle her dwindling sex life with the hubby post 3 young children (of which 2 sleeps with them) and an expanding business that sees the man looking more tired than ever when he returns home past midnight. Tina was all excited with the hitherto unexplored possibilities of her house and giggly with my visual demonstrations of the number of positions that she could try out. I impressed upon her the importance of a healthy sex life with her partner to keep the relationship alive and the man from straying.
“Oh P, you are good! Next time, you would surely know how to keep your man. Hey, anymore tricks? I am sure you’re not telling me all that you have done with all your men!” She tried to extract more out of me-she was getting excited with the number of ideas that I have pulled out for her.
Then we went on to the topic of orgasms. Daisy was new to the idea of squirting and the external ultimate pleasure that Tina and I agreed to have experience from the arousal of the clitoris. I confessed I rarely get “hit” at the g-spot so I don’t quite get that pleasure that Daisy was more familiar with. Then we discussed about the selfishness or lack of skills of certain men who cummed too quickly and the anti-climax we have experienced.
“I got to have an orgasm! I swear to god I get really mad and irritated when I am building up my own and the guy just cummed before I had enough fun!” I confessed.
“Do you really show your displeasure to these guys?” Daisy asked curiously.
“Pretty much these days but then again, I would have been comfy with these guys. What good is sex with a lover if he is not doing what he is supposed to do for you?!” I replied.
“P, you behave like a man! It’s often the men who get irritated if they experience an anti-climax,” Tina laughed.
“Yeah, you have changed P. You used to talk more about the lovers but now you focus more on the sex,” Daisy said pensively.
Tina went on to the topic about finding male hostesses who service the rich and bored housewives. She heard they are really cheap to hire in Vietnam. We thought we should go for the experience too when Tina’s children were a little bit older and she could take time off for an all girls’ holiday. We all got excited.
“Just for the hell of it- if men could have fun, we too can!” I laughed.
“Hey P, wouldn’t you find these men dirty if you pay for sex?” Tina asked.
“I’m with Tina!” Daisy concurred.
“Of course, I don’t intend to pay for sex! I just want these men to perhaps hug and cuddle me, entertain me and maybe sing with us. Us paying for their time to pleasure us which ever way we intend to do! Plus if you come along, you are married so no sex, just for the experience!” I clarified.
“Hey do you think people fall for these hostesses?” Tina wondered out loud.
“Of course, they do! But that’s stupidity on their parts. One gotta remember the goal- you pay for pleasure so the feeling is never for real. Precisely this needlessness for emotional commitment is the reason why you pay for pleasure!”
“That’s so true! Oh man, P you do sound like a man these days!” Tina said smilingly.
“See, I told you have changed. You focused more on the sex and not the person.” Daisy reiterated.
*****
Sometime back, the Boy cummed, his desire got satiated and the act was completed.
“I don’t know about you but I sure felt that you were good and I had a great time…,” he smiled sheepishly and eyed me self consciously for some clues.
I didn’t quite cum the way I would like to. Given that my sexperience come on an ad hoc basis, I pretty much like to get much out of each session as I could possibly have. The challenge lies in how comfortable I am with the person and obviously the bedroom chemistry.
“Well, it’s not too hard to pleasure a man is it? All a girl needs to do is to make him shoot and cum. Too easy” I eyed him back with a cocky half smile.
He smiled back nervously and got no further re-assurance from a candid P.
*****
A few days ago, it was M’s birthday. I wrote that young ex-lover of mine a very Happy Birthday. He has just turned 25.
I briefly mentioned that I have quit my job and will be back home in Singapore in early July.
Great, he wrote back. I should be in Singapore next month too. I would really love to meet up and see you again.
In the past, I would have been so excited, hanging on to the hope of his words. Now, all I can ever think about was we’ll see. If it happens, great. If not, no loss.
If a meet up turns into a rendezvous, so be it. I can only think about how well endowed he is in the male department and what a great lollipop that would make for a lascivious P.
No more dwelling on those hauntingly tender kisses and cuddles that began in Paris and followed on in Singapore.
No more heart-aches with this one.
*****
Last Thursday, Daisy and I went to the Latino Club where I did a dirty dance with a nameless Latino eons ago.
As we entered the club, I instantly spotted a target that I so desired as an eye candy. He was a tall, well pac-ed and tanned Latino with a seemingly quiet demeanour dressed in a fitted business shirt and trousers, having an after-work drink with a couple of male colleagues.
To cut a long story short, post fending off his other Irish colleague who tried to kiss me during a dance and confessing that ‘P, I do like you”, he attempted to do the “more” gentlemanly thing by asking if I cared to go out for dinner with him sometime before I leave Australia for good, I finally found my way to dance with my Latino properly (given that the Irish intercepted him a few times and I was getting a tad irritated that my plans were not going according to plan).
So I danced with the Latino whom by this stage, has turned from a shy guy (that initially hung close by to me post an eye contact and a smile on my end to effect a self introduction) to a tipsy Casanova. I learnt that he was from Argentina and he happened to work in the same company that Dr Jekyll & Hyde did. He tried to tell me his name which I had difficulty pronouncing and hearing clearly from the loud music and decided to settle on a possible English variation instead- “Daniel” he would be for me.
So Daniel twirled me around, not without trying to cast his net wide and far and did the multi-tasking of gliding his fingers seductively past a passing girl’s arm to get her attention whilst still having me in one arm. The said female passer-by took a double take and realised that the man was not without a dancing partner i.e. moi whom she probably mistook me for his girlfriend and looked slightly embarrassed (perhaps for me and him) and waved amicably at me whilst she walked away.
Daniel never bothered to ask what I did or where I came from etc. He only mentioned that I danced and looked sexy. Also, he asked where I lived and whom I lived with (alarm bells ringing for a one night stand proposition). Later, he asked if I cared to go downstairs.
What for, I asked.
To dance, he said.
I got to let Daisy know first, I said.
Just two minutes, he said.
I went to inform Daisy and we headed downstairs. I excused myself to head for the ladies first and he said he would do likewise.
When I came out, he was gone. I waited for a bit and roamed the dance floor but did not find my Argentinean beau and headed upstairs to re-join Daisy.
A minute later, I saw him come up the stairs again and our eyes met. He came towards me.
Where were you, I asked.
I left, he said.
Where to, I asked since I could find him at all.
He didn’t reply.
Daniel got me to dance with him on the dance floor again. My body was pressed close to his (I mentally made a note to detect any hardening bulge between his thighs as we danced intimately.) He drew his face close to my lips. He asked me for my number.
Do you want to go downstairs? he asked again.
Alright, I said.
Daniel walked slightly ahead of me in the crowd and let me to the locker room.
He leaned against the holed wall that partitioned the corridor that led to the toilets from the lockers. He held my waist and pulled me to him. He slid one of his knees between my legs where my crotch touched his thighs. We kissed passionately (and me somewhat mechanically) in the dark and then I tilted my face away and let his tongue wander around my ear lobe and then along my neck. He started to let his left hand wander and glided it under my short black pleated skirt where he patted my thigh and moved upwards towards my ass and attempted to let his fingers slip under my panties. I pulled his hand away but we continued to indulge in kissing. He led my hand to his enlarging beast waiting to do a jack-in-the box out of his trousers. A couple tried to pass us discreetly as they inched their way into the crammed alleyway of the locker room.
A big part of my detached mind drifted to attempt re-calling when exactly was the last time I have had a kiss and mentally made note that it was with the Old Boy in early March in the private confines of Hotel 81. Even then, the kisses were lacklustre. The Old Boy was never very much a passionate kisser which had often made me wonder about his feelings for me. Then my mind began to play a little game within myself as I did a quick guesstimate of my Latino beau’s manhood. What I felt was a far cry from the substantial (read thick and long) presence of what I had experienced from M or even the Norwegian. I was getting very disappointed as his physical physique sure did not quite match up with what I was groping in the dark.
“Hey, wanna go off somewhere?” He eyed me suggestively and spoke in his Latino accented English.
“Nope. I am not that type of a girl.” I said smilingly.
“What?”
“I am not a one night stand sort of girl.” I tried again, half amused at my speech.
“Maybe not one night, but more nights. Many, many nights. You are so sexy.” He teased cheesily.
“Sometimes…,” he continued. “Sometimes, good things happen once…” He reiterated.
So be it, I thought to myself. Precisely so – I want good sex again and again. Not once. Dumbass!
I was getting amused and wanted to see where all this talk is getting us to.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said.
“Where to?”
He led me past the toilets and towards the Exit door.
We got out to a brightly lit corridor that possibly would lead us to a rubbish chute.
Daniel pressed me against the wall and we started kissing passionately again. I stroked his engorged rod teasingly.
“Wanna fuck?” He asked breathlessly as I felt him undo his zipper.
“No.” I continued to shut him up and got on with the thrill of kissing. My mind wandered to the existence of condoms in his wallet.
“We could go there,” he eyed another exit door to our right.
I relished the thrill of fucking in public but couldn’t see a stranger as the designated partner more for sanitary reasons.
He freed his beast from the zipper and led me to hold his erected dick in my palm. It felt unappealingly not-too-well-endowed, which one would more or less associate with the average size of an Asian dick (no offence to Asians here!), contradictory to his tall and well built Latino physique. He pressed his hardened member against me and attempted to lift my short skirt up. I pulled his hand away.
At some stage, whilst a man from the bar passed us as he walked towards the rubbish chute with bags of rubbish. He turned back slightly to eye us.
Then Daniel’s left hand strayed from behind my neck and found its way to fondle my right boob. I grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away.
“Stay away from my breasts!” I jumped at him.
He backed off and threw his hands in mid-air. “Ok, ok, I won’t touch if you don’t like it!”
“Hey, it’s been more than two minutes now. Let’s go back up there!” I smiled.
We must have been away from Daisy for at least 15 minutes by now.
I looked down south and for the first time, saw the throbbing specimen with the wet tip that I have been groping before.
It’s pink! And it’s thin and not too long!
I would have imagined it to be brown given the tan of his complexion.
“Oh, kiss it first! Kiss it first please!” He begged lightly, making enticing (not!) kissy noises.
Thanks but no thanks. Not falling into your trap of shoving your pee stained dick into my mouth. And run the possibility of catching Hepatitis quite typical from that part of your world!
I put my palm to my lips, kissed it and transferred it down there.
“See, I kissed it!” I smiled dismissively. My body was half turning back to head in the direction of the Exit door to re-enter the bar.
He continued holding on to his erected dick and begged feebly for me to kiss it.
At this stage, I was getting bored.
I grabbed his dick and shoved it back into his open flyer trousers. He let out a light “ouch” and did up his zip with little choice.
I laughed and grabbed his hand to lead him back from where we came from.
I walked in front of him as I pushed open the exit door to lead us back into the dark corridor of the bar. Daniel lifted my skirt lightly from behind and stealthily slid his finger to feel the moistness of my female opening.
“What’s this?” He teased.
I pulled his hand lightly away and turned my head halfway around and gave him a slight smile.
We walked up the stairs in single file and without saying our formal goodbyes, I headed straight for the couch near the stairs where Daisy sat waiting tiredly and Daniel disappearing to the denseness of the dance floor, perhaps to hunt for another prey that he could get lucky for the night.
“Let’s go!” I said to Daisy.
“So how was it?” she asked excitedly.
"It was pink!” I exclaimed, scrunging my face in mock embarrassment.
“What? Really?” Daisy grew even more curious.
We burst out laughing.
Then we linked arms girlishly as we walked the streets and made our way back to the car.
Daisy knew me from a time where I was more of someone else’s girlfriend than a lover.
Daisy has known me for almost a good decade now. She is my best friend in this part of the world in Sad Town. In the past, we saw each other everyday and even during the time where we initially both moved to Sydney separately but around the same time. But she returned to Sad Town six months later. Like V and B, she knew everything about my life.
Prior to last week when she drove down from Sad Town to visit me in Sydney before we drove back here again, Daisy and I must have not seen each other for almost a year. With the number of rainchecks we took to catch up and the missed calls that I never returned (as I bury myself in depression in Sydney and she too have personal issues to tackle), time has simply slipped through our hands.
During the course of the last few days, Daisy and Tina (my other best friend in Sad Town) tried asking me about recent “updates” of my romantic sexcapades and flings. I gave Daisy a quick overview in the form of a one-liner summary and said no more. If asked to comment about the sex, I would simply rate the experience as “good” or “not too good”. I didn’t try adding colour to the profiles of these people as I was wont to be descriptive in the old days.
Last night, the 3 of us girls were having our usual girl talk about the birds and the bees. It started with me coming up with creative ideas for Tina to re-kindle her dwindling sex life with the hubby post 3 young children (of which 2 sleeps with them) and an expanding business that sees the man looking more tired than ever when he returns home past midnight. Tina was all excited with the hitherto unexplored possibilities of her house and giggly with my visual demonstrations of the number of positions that she could try out. I impressed upon her the importance of a healthy sex life with her partner to keep the relationship alive and the man from straying.
“Oh P, you are good! Next time, you would surely know how to keep your man. Hey, anymore tricks? I am sure you’re not telling me all that you have done with all your men!” She tried to extract more out of me-she was getting excited with the number of ideas that I have pulled out for her.
Then we went on to the topic of orgasms. Daisy was new to the idea of squirting and the external ultimate pleasure that Tina and I agreed to have experience from the arousal of the clitoris. I confessed I rarely get “hit” at the g-spot so I don’t quite get that pleasure that Daisy was more familiar with. Then we discussed about the selfishness or lack of skills of certain men who cummed too quickly and the anti-climax we have experienced.
“I got to have an orgasm! I swear to god I get really mad and irritated when I am building up my own and the guy just cummed before I had enough fun!” I confessed.
“Do you really show your displeasure to these guys?” Daisy asked curiously.
“Pretty much these days but then again, I would have been comfy with these guys. What good is sex with a lover if he is not doing what he is supposed to do for you?!” I replied.
“P, you behave like a man! It’s often the men who get irritated if they experience an anti-climax,” Tina laughed.
“Yeah, you have changed P. You used to talk more about the lovers but now you focus more on the sex,” Daisy said pensively.
Tina went on to the topic about finding male hostesses who service the rich and bored housewives. She heard they are really cheap to hire in Vietnam. We thought we should go for the experience too when Tina’s children were a little bit older and she could take time off for an all girls’ holiday. We all got excited.
“Just for the hell of it- if men could have fun, we too can!” I laughed.
“Hey P, wouldn’t you find these men dirty if you pay for sex?” Tina asked.
“I’m with Tina!” Daisy concurred.
“Of course, I don’t intend to pay for sex! I just want these men to perhaps hug and cuddle me, entertain me and maybe sing with us. Us paying for their time to pleasure us which ever way we intend to do! Plus if you come along, you are married so no sex, just for the experience!” I clarified.
“Hey do you think people fall for these hostesses?” Tina wondered out loud.
“Of course, they do! But that’s stupidity on their parts. One gotta remember the goal- you pay for pleasure so the feeling is never for real. Precisely this needlessness for emotional commitment is the reason why you pay for pleasure!”
“That’s so true! Oh man, P you do sound like a man these days!” Tina said smilingly.
“See, I told you have changed. You focused more on the sex and not the person.” Daisy reiterated.
*****
Sometime back, the Boy cummed, his desire got satiated and the act was completed.
“I don’t know about you but I sure felt that you were good and I had a great time…,” he smiled sheepishly and eyed me self consciously for some clues.
I didn’t quite cum the way I would like to. Given that my sexperience come on an ad hoc basis, I pretty much like to get much out of each session as I could possibly have. The challenge lies in how comfortable I am with the person and obviously the bedroom chemistry.
“Well, it’s not too hard to pleasure a man is it? All a girl needs to do is to make him shoot and cum. Too easy” I eyed him back with a cocky half smile.
He smiled back nervously and got no further re-assurance from a candid P.
*****
A few days ago, it was M’s birthday. I wrote that young ex-lover of mine a very Happy Birthday. He has just turned 25.
I briefly mentioned that I have quit my job and will be back home in Singapore in early July.
Great, he wrote back. I should be in Singapore next month too. I would really love to meet up and see you again.
In the past, I would have been so excited, hanging on to the hope of his words. Now, all I can ever think about was we’ll see. If it happens, great. If not, no loss.
If a meet up turns into a rendezvous, so be it. I can only think about how well endowed he is in the male department and what a great lollipop that would make for a lascivious P.
No more dwelling on those hauntingly tender kisses and cuddles that began in Paris and followed on in Singapore.
No more heart-aches with this one.
*****
Last Thursday, Daisy and I went to the Latino Club where I did a dirty dance with a nameless Latino eons ago.
As we entered the club, I instantly spotted a target that I so desired as an eye candy. He was a tall, well pac-ed and tanned Latino with a seemingly quiet demeanour dressed in a fitted business shirt and trousers, having an after-work drink with a couple of male colleagues.
To cut a long story short, post fending off his other Irish colleague who tried to kiss me during a dance and confessing that ‘P, I do like you”, he attempted to do the “more” gentlemanly thing by asking if I cared to go out for dinner with him sometime before I leave Australia for good, I finally found my way to dance with my Latino properly (given that the Irish intercepted him a few times and I was getting a tad irritated that my plans were not going according to plan).
So I danced with the Latino whom by this stage, has turned from a shy guy (that initially hung close by to me post an eye contact and a smile on my end to effect a self introduction) to a tipsy Casanova. I learnt that he was from Argentina and he happened to work in the same company that Dr Jekyll & Hyde did. He tried to tell me his name which I had difficulty pronouncing and hearing clearly from the loud music and decided to settle on a possible English variation instead- “Daniel” he would be for me.
So Daniel twirled me around, not without trying to cast his net wide and far and did the multi-tasking of gliding his fingers seductively past a passing girl’s arm to get her attention whilst still having me in one arm. The said female passer-by took a double take and realised that the man was not without a dancing partner i.e. moi whom she probably mistook me for his girlfriend and looked slightly embarrassed (perhaps for me and him) and waved amicably at me whilst she walked away.
Daniel never bothered to ask what I did or where I came from etc. He only mentioned that I danced and looked sexy. Also, he asked where I lived and whom I lived with (alarm bells ringing for a one night stand proposition). Later, he asked if I cared to go downstairs.
What for, I asked.
To dance, he said.
I got to let Daisy know first, I said.
Just two minutes, he said.
I went to inform Daisy and we headed downstairs. I excused myself to head for the ladies first and he said he would do likewise.
When I came out, he was gone. I waited for a bit and roamed the dance floor but did not find my Argentinean beau and headed upstairs to re-join Daisy.
A minute later, I saw him come up the stairs again and our eyes met. He came towards me.
Where were you, I asked.
I left, he said.
Where to, I asked since I could find him at all.
He didn’t reply.
Daniel got me to dance with him on the dance floor again. My body was pressed close to his (I mentally made a note to detect any hardening bulge between his thighs as we danced intimately.) He drew his face close to my lips. He asked me for my number.
Do you want to go downstairs? he asked again.
Alright, I said.
Daniel walked slightly ahead of me in the crowd and let me to the locker room.
He leaned against the holed wall that partitioned the corridor that led to the toilets from the lockers. He held my waist and pulled me to him. He slid one of his knees between my legs where my crotch touched his thighs. We kissed passionately (and me somewhat mechanically) in the dark and then I tilted my face away and let his tongue wander around my ear lobe and then along my neck. He started to let his left hand wander and glided it under my short black pleated skirt where he patted my thigh and moved upwards towards my ass and attempted to let his fingers slip under my panties. I pulled his hand away but we continued to indulge in kissing. He led my hand to his enlarging beast waiting to do a jack-in-the box out of his trousers. A couple tried to pass us discreetly as they inched their way into the crammed alleyway of the locker room.
A big part of my detached mind drifted to attempt re-calling when exactly was the last time I have had a kiss and mentally made note that it was with the Old Boy in early March in the private confines of Hotel 81. Even then, the kisses were lacklustre. The Old Boy was never very much a passionate kisser which had often made me wonder about his feelings for me. Then my mind began to play a little game within myself as I did a quick guesstimate of my Latino beau’s manhood. What I felt was a far cry from the substantial (read thick and long) presence of what I had experienced from M or even the Norwegian. I was getting very disappointed as his physical physique sure did not quite match up with what I was groping in the dark.
“Hey, wanna go off somewhere?” He eyed me suggestively and spoke in his Latino accented English.
“Nope. I am not that type of a girl.” I said smilingly.
“What?”
“I am not a one night stand sort of girl.” I tried again, half amused at my speech.
“Maybe not one night, but more nights. Many, many nights. You are so sexy.” He teased cheesily.
“Sometimes…,” he continued. “Sometimes, good things happen once…” He reiterated.
So be it, I thought to myself. Precisely so – I want good sex again and again. Not once. Dumbass!
I was getting amused and wanted to see where all this talk is getting us to.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said.
“Where to?”
He led me past the toilets and towards the Exit door.
We got out to a brightly lit corridor that possibly would lead us to a rubbish chute.
Daniel pressed me against the wall and we started kissing passionately again. I stroked his engorged rod teasingly.
“Wanna fuck?” He asked breathlessly as I felt him undo his zipper.
“No.” I continued to shut him up and got on with the thrill of kissing. My mind wandered to the existence of condoms in his wallet.
“We could go there,” he eyed another exit door to our right.
I relished the thrill of fucking in public but couldn’t see a stranger as the designated partner more for sanitary reasons.
He freed his beast from the zipper and led me to hold his erected dick in my palm. It felt unappealingly not-too-well-endowed, which one would more or less associate with the average size of an Asian dick (no offence to Asians here!), contradictory to his tall and well built Latino physique. He pressed his hardened member against me and attempted to lift my short skirt up. I pulled his hand away.
At some stage, whilst a man from the bar passed us as he walked towards the rubbish chute with bags of rubbish. He turned back slightly to eye us.
Then Daniel’s left hand strayed from behind my neck and found its way to fondle my right boob. I grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away.
“Stay away from my breasts!” I jumped at him.
He backed off and threw his hands in mid-air. “Ok, ok, I won’t touch if you don’t like it!”
“Hey, it’s been more than two minutes now. Let’s go back up there!” I smiled.
We must have been away from Daisy for at least 15 minutes by now.
I looked down south and for the first time, saw the throbbing specimen with the wet tip that I have been groping before.
It’s pink! And it’s thin and not too long!
I would have imagined it to be brown given the tan of his complexion.
“Oh, kiss it first! Kiss it first please!” He begged lightly, making enticing (not!) kissy noises.
Thanks but no thanks. Not falling into your trap of shoving your pee stained dick into my mouth. And run the possibility of catching Hepatitis quite typical from that part of your world!
I put my palm to my lips, kissed it and transferred it down there.
“See, I kissed it!” I smiled dismissively. My body was half turning back to head in the direction of the Exit door to re-enter the bar.
He continued holding on to his erected dick and begged feebly for me to kiss it.
At this stage, I was getting bored.
I grabbed his dick and shoved it back into his open flyer trousers. He let out a light “ouch” and did up his zip with little choice.
I laughed and grabbed his hand to lead him back from where we came from.
I walked in front of him as I pushed open the exit door to lead us back into the dark corridor of the bar. Daniel lifted my skirt lightly from behind and stealthily slid his finger to feel the moistness of my female opening.
“What’s this?” He teased.
I pulled his hand lightly away and turned my head halfway around and gave him a slight smile.
We walked up the stairs in single file and without saying our formal goodbyes, I headed straight for the couch near the stairs where Daisy sat waiting tiredly and Daniel disappearing to the denseness of the dance floor, perhaps to hunt for another prey that he could get lucky for the night.
“Let’s go!” I said to Daisy.
“So how was it?” she asked excitedly.
"It was pink!” I exclaimed, scrunging my face in mock embarrassment.
“What? Really?” Daisy grew even more curious.
We burst out laughing.
Then we linked arms girlishly as we walked the streets and made our way back to the car.
