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I knew that their premier burger was a showstopper, and unreservedly ordered one for him.When it arrived with the onion rings and potato wedges, his eyes were spinning in his head.“Enjoy," I instantly invited him.This beautiful boy was ravenous, and he ate like a starving man who had not had a decent meal in days.Once he finished every morsel, I could help myself before asking, “Would you like a dessert?"“Whew, I do not know if I have any space left," Wikus replied with a smile.Overawed by this beautiful boy, I could not resist ordering a Crème Brûlée for him.“Jesus, this is fuckin’ delicious," he exclaimed as he scoffed it down.“Where are you staying tonight?" I then asked.“I still have a bit of money, so hopefully I will find accommodation in a backpacker's place," he wistfully exclaimed.“Well, tonight you may share my room," I announced before adding, “But I leave tomorrow," I quickly added, making sure that there was no misunderstanding.As we entered my bedroom, Wikus’s eyes lit. We'll see."With that, she left me to mix drinks. I grew so stiff prancing about in her tight rubber coat, but I didn't dare touch myself,When Suzy returned, I couldn't believe how ravishing she looked. From head to toe she wore the softest and most unique vinyl/rubber halter-top dress I had ever seen. Zippers ran sideways along each breast, down one side and up the front, wrapping itself tightly around her firm body like a glove. When I first touched the lavender garment, marveled at the material's incredible rubber-like softness. The straps attached to thin, loose-fitting black latex bra cups, crisscrossed front and back, fastened with snaps and rear buckles. Suzy's breasts bounced freely with every step she took.With her exotic Oriental beauty, accentuated by her waist-length raven-black hair and high-heeled boots that stretched tightly all the way up to her crotch, I was so very much in lust with her.She smiled at my appreciative open-jawed panting stare and told me to sit down at.
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It was the tag end of the lunch hour and the tables were mostly empty. I ordered a house salad that I hardly touched, concentrating instead on two double Stolis on the rocks with a twist of lemon peel. I watched the Tufts girl demolish a large turkey club and a pile of French fries, a gleaming, overdressed Caesar salad, and three big tumblers of sweetened iced tea.“Drinking vodka in the middle of the day would knock me right out,” she said.“That’s what I’m counting on,” I said. “It’s all downhill from here.”“Don’t say that.”“It was a compliment.”“It just sounds a little maudlin,” she said. “You don’t want me to think of you as pitiable, do you?”“No, you’re right, I don’t.” And I didn’t. Considering, as I did just then, that of all the people on the planet she was one of two, at most, who were thinking about me at all. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sure it’s the vodka.”“You were very sweet to me,” she leaned in and whispered over the caddy of sweetener packets, the salt and pepper shakers,.

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