The song ended, and the band started another slow dance. We kept dancing. As we moved, Bobbie whispered, “Rick, I have to tell you something. Please...don’t hate me for it.”I whispered back, “I’d never hate you, no matter what.”“I’m not so sure,” she whispered. “Rick, I’m a guy.”“WHAT?” I tried to pull away.“Wait,” whispered Bobbie, her arms still wrapped around me. “Just finish the dance. Please.”The song was almost over. I felt my erection shrinking. Bobbie relaxed her grip on me a bit but. ’ she exclaimed one Tuesday afternoon ‘you’re not getting it.’ Carl felt himself deflate. After hours of work on this piece he had felt that he had mastered it but before he had had even finished he could tell that it was lacking. Her eyes had remained open through his entire recital, and there was no reaction at all to any of his complex manipulations of the instrument. She laid her baton on her music stand and walked around to stand next to him. She had never done this before. ‘Look at the. More

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