"I mean --" Sarah floundered in her attempt to get him to speak, "how big is it, anyway?" John grimaced in embarassment, and looked away. "Come on, Jo...n! When was the last time we ever kept anything from each other?" Well, I didn't know you were fucking Tommy Clark!" You didn't ask!"John swiveled his chair to face his desk and turned on his computer. He gave every impression of ignoring her still-unanswered question. Sarah said nothing, and waited."Nine inches." WHAT? FUCKING HELL! There's no. He could feel the prickly burn of a hundred eyes upon him as he strode on, nearly running down the chubby herald in his impatience. He could feel their envy, perhaps even their fear? The corner of his lip curled briefly at this thought. The stuffiness of the room, its air thick with hardly pumping blue blood, at some level appalled him, and at another fed his vanity like brimstone to fiery pit, in everlasting symbiosis. ‘Yes, Tomas, at long last you have arrived,’ he thought bemused to himself,. More

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