The Maître d’ had us seated in minutes. Milton joined us ten minutes into our drinks and menu perusals.“Okay, you guys, who’s paying. I’m jus... a poor bachelor’s degree guy,” he said.“You’re in luck, mister,” said Lance. “We’re flush tonight.” Milt’s smile was genuine, and, I thought relieved.“We talked. We laughed, And Lance and I did put the heat on Milt to finish up and go for the masters. He could do it, and I could help him if he needed it which I was pretty sure he wouldn’t.We ate, we. And yet how worth it I am as his weight presses down on my breasts, and he feels how my strength is out of all proportion to my size. Did he ever imagine it would be like this?There is something I want to say to him even as he tries to devour me mouth-first. It is always a risky thing to say, for many reasons, not the least of which being that it is so overwhelming – as much responsibility as promise. And yet I want to say it to him with an urgency that feels like the need to come. We could. More

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