You’re a lucky man.” Ted looked thunderstruck, his jaw almost dropping open, and I laughed. “It surprised me too, hon. Greg doesn’t waste any ...ime.” Ted muttered, “No, I guess not.” Greg laughed. “Sorry if that was too sudden, but we all know why we’re here. And I think we’re all probably feeling the same way about it.” As if to remove any doubt I might have, he took my hand and moved it to his crotch, where I felt the thick, hard ridge of his erection straining against his slacks. On a whim, I. Each night after closing, the restaurant sent one of their busboys outside with a hose that he hooked to the faucet and used a special wrench to turn on. He sprayed from the front of the restaurant out to the street, sweeping all the accumulated day worth of gum wrappers and mint papers and occasional pile of dog poop out into the street. There he left it, assuming that it would get washed down the gutters or a street sweeper would come by in the middle of the night and vacuum the crap up. Mr.. More

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