She stepped into the elevator, already occupied by a trading associate from a higher floor.“Hey, Geeta.”“Hey, Bennie. How’s Tokyo tonight?”�...�Crap,” said Bennie, running a hand through his close-cropped graying hair with one hand, and pulling out a package of cigarettes with the other. “Just crap. At least it is for me. Someone else made a fuckton of money at my expense. I think I just killed my numbers for the whole goddamn month.” Geeta nodded sympathetically. “Been there, done that,” she said.. Some of theladies even want to touch my belly and maybe even rub it just a little,and of course I'll let them do that, and it feels so good to havesomeone else rubbing my belly, and I wish I could get more people totouch and rub me, but I asked one of the guys in my class if he wantedto rub my belly but he just looked at me like I was crazy or something,which of course I'm not, like, what's crazy about wanting someone to rubyour belly because it feels so good ... oops, I'm repeating myself. More

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