I Screwed a Valet

Ultra-trendy Restaurant (with a large fishtank) - 2 pm
It's funny how when you're chewing a piece of bread, you can actually hear your tongue pressing the soggy lump to the roof of your mouth. The sloshing bread is loudly echoing in my head and I'm thrilled because Keira's talking and I'm successfully managing to block out her incessant mumbling. She bores me. I'd eat a thousand dinner rolls to avoid having to hear about the various new positions she's discovered and how pineapple really does improve the taste of cum. The last bite of the roll is sliding down my throat, and I can start to hear her voice again… "So, then he decided it was a good idea to put on a pirates hat and pound away at me like a cheap skirt steak." She has such an eloquent way with words. "Wow, a pirate's hat? With the skull and crossbones and everything?" I shove another bite of bread in my mouth. Yay, just me and my thoughts again. She's droning on about some guy named Karl she met out at a club and since the only Karl I know is a closet gay I keep picturing him, and frankly it's weird. I look down at the table. Shit, the bread basket's empty. I panic. "Listen, Keira, I'm sorry to cut your story short, but I've gotta run. If I don't get back to the office, it's not gonna be good." Keira looks at me, stumped. "I thought you said your boss was out this week." Dammit, turns out she does listen to me. I'm caught… or, am I? "Oh, well, he's supposed to check in." She twists her mouth up, contemplating my lie. And… she… "Oh, alright." (pulling her purse from the floor) "I'll call you later then."… buys it. I'm free. We give each other the A-frame hug, being careful not to touch breasts. (because she says it makes her uncomfortable but I just think it makes her hot to squish my tits) I walk away from the table, satisfied I made it through another dull lunch with her.