I went home and I was wishing that I could phone Claire, but I didn't have her number. Often when I met a women from the dating line I would give them...my number up front, but I'd only get theirs after meeting. If the date went well and I managed to demonstrate an acceptable level of mental stability, while generating a soupçon of attraction, I'd usually get the number. Sleeping together usually meant I was on track. Under this arrangement getting the number was kind of an end of date thing and. The light directly on his face, he looked up at the audience and smiled - that fucking sexy ass smirk that made me weak. I allowed myself to stare brazenly, not giving a shit who saw the rampant lust all over my face. I was a few lines back from the front row and planned to wait for the right moment to reveal myself. Though my eyes never left him, with every word in every song, I was drawn closer to the stage. As I manoeuvred my way into a position where he would be able to see me, I felt. More

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