"I looked her up and down her curvaceous body. I tilted my head and said back..."What's in it for me?" Wanna see?" Denise asked.Denise was standing up...while I was still sitting down at the lunch table. She bent over. She was wearing a low cut top, showing her ebony cleavage quite generously. I was almost staring, getting an erection."Before I ask... How old are you?" I'm eighteen. My birthday just passed," I said."Good. Me too," She said. "I want you to film me." Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.. ”“Yeah. Didn’t win. Not for best. For most creative.”“Yeah. I can see that,” she chuckled. “So ... Tuesday.”“Yep.”They shook hands. She had big hands for a woman. Soft. No power struggle like a man might, or wimpy like some men he shook hands with. Firm. Confident. A hand he felt good about handing his play to.Sunday was just as full and a lot more diverse. Some of each contingent. Students. Theater people. Others. Word of mouth Joe thought. Some rockers showed up. Most probably no more theater. More

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