As it happened, my boss chose that moment to pop his head into my office, and allayed any possible excuses I may have been considering. Before I knew...it, I was in Doc J's car headed to "a delightful drinking establishment" that he knew.From the outside, the place looked fairly nondeskript. Once we stepped inside, I realized what kind of establishment it really was. Doc J had taken me to a strip club.Trying not to over-think things, I let Doc J guide me to a small table near one of the two main. She looked at herself in the large mirror over the sink. She could see the sweat and dirt marks on her face and around her neck. She turned and picked up the pile of dirty clothes to put them in the hamper. As she picked them up she wrinkled nose saying to herself "Yup, you do stink."Returning to the mirror she could see her pubic hair starting to grow back. As she raised her arms, the mirror confirmed she would need to take care of them too. Looking at the visible stubble on her legs she knew. I picked her up outside her office, which was located in the old Second Precinct building. The skirt was short. By short, I mean Shaquille O’Neal is tall; this skirt was short. But her blouse was quite proper, buttoned all the way up to her neck. Maybe there was no playtime today. We went to a small café about ten blocks from the precinct. We parked, got out of the car, and walked up to the door. I let her walk ahead of me. That ass was really nice. Once inside Sonja made a bee-line for a booth. As I walk in you are standing by a large leather sofa that borders a deep rug, opposite is a flat screen TV. To your left is a single leather chair of the same style. Ian joins us, 'please, sit down' he says, he points to a door, 'kitchen through there', bathroom and um, bedroom on the other side of the hall, but it's not hard to find your way around. He seems a little edgy: I sense that he too is a little nervous. You sit on the sofa and I tactically move to the single chair. Ian moves towards.
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