When they were back in the car, he prodded her shoulder. ‘Fancy a nip?’ ‘Why not? Where do you want to go?’ ‘Not a clue. Never been to a pub...hereabouts.’ She smiled, keeping her eyes on the road. ‘A pub you want, a pub you’ll get.’ She drove to the old downtown district, away from the box stores on the state highway and onto the quiet, bricked streets lined with law offices, two banks, antique and hardware stores, a diner, and scattered taverns. He gazed at the buildings. The brickwork was. Her husband, for lack of a better word, seemed nervous, but was definitely engaged. I knew he'd be fine in a bit. It's a funny thing I have noticed, even when two men, strangers, know they are going to fuck each other, they still often can't show "emotions" or excitement many times. It's like a game or a fucked up thing in society. They have to continue to play "masculine" roles. And be stronger than one another. Even though they both know they want cock! He was excited, I could tell, but was. More

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