Whatever reassurance she’d begun to build up in her psyche telling her that everything would be okay now seemed like a cold, distant memory. The pit...in her stomach was back, this time with a renewed intensity. She couldn’t even begin to process the implications of what she’d just seen, but it had certainly dredged up terrible, dark memories. With a shaking hand, she finally reached for the floor and retrieved her fallen phone. The text messages had been from Jeff. Three in all. Each within the. Jeff picked up a folded sign-card and read, his eyes growing wider as he went on. "There's more Wet Tee shirt Contests, all for this Beale Blues Festival Babe!" he thrust the card at me. I looked it over, it was like a pub crawl. Every night for the next week some bar would be hosting a very risky and risqué wet tee contest. The finale would be at the Sans Culotte creole bar two days before the parade on Saturday; coincidentally, we were planning to stay in town the whole week. Hmm, Liza had. And I wantyou to do something about it right now," she said with a broad grin. "This is hardly the right place," I protested. "I said...right now!" Sue half growled, a lewd smile playing overher lips as she stepped up to me and grabbed my flaccid penis withboth hands. I wasn't in much of a mood to protest, but she gave me notime before dropping to her knees and slurping my penis into hermouth. It didn't stay flaccid very long. In just seconds I was as hardand stiff as I ever got and she. .. where was it and how did dinner fit into all this? Surely the wedding wouldn't be after dinner at ten o'clock or so. We both slid into the booth, across from one another, and ordered cocktails.When our drinks arrived, Chanticleer held out her glass in a toast. I clinked my glass with hers and she said "To the wedding," and we both drank."Where is the wedding?" I asked looking around."Right here," she replied."I don't see anybody that looks like they belong to a wedding party." That's because.
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