The bartender returned to the game, and our attentions turned to the pool table. Jen was kicking Mike's ass, but he really didn't seem to upset about ...t. Between shots, he would return to where I was sitting, and I would rub his cock as he ran his hands up and down my arms and across my back. Once the game was over, his attentions were entirely mine. We exchanged long deep kisses, which he knew I loved, until I couldn't stand it anymore, and suggested we leave. We bid Jen a good night, and. There had been alcohol. There had been sex, conversation and, somewhere, nagging at my mind, a presence. There were shadows from the evening, lurking at the edges of my mind. My recall of Bob, my work colleague, was sharp enough. He had told me about the walk he'd taken with Karen, who had needed fresh air because of a headache. The scene he had related to me, in the club, was that they had walked round the back of the building, and down a road in the nearby industrial estate. Thinking about. More

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