Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Takin' it to the Banks
Part: 3 of 6
Universe: Second Best
Summary: A woman's libido is reawakened by her daughter's antics, and
desperation finds an outlet.

Keywords: voy

Keywords for full story: MF mf 1st oral

Takin' it to the Banks

Chapter 3

	Tuesday started out pretty normally.  Aaron settled in and managed to
concentrate, putting aside the incident of the day before, and he managed to
discover the basis of the interface error that he'd been looking for.
Marion's masturbation session of the night before had been oddly satisfying,
so she was clear-headed and focused, dispatching her work in an efficient
manner that had Dom nodding in approval and relief.  Everything went pretty
normally until Marion came back at five o'clock, and started cleaning the
glass doors on the third floor.  There were four, equally spaced along the
circumference of the open atrium whose ceiling spanned all three floors - and
one of them led to IT.  The first three went fairly quickly, but Marion found
herself lingering over the fourth, hoping for a glimpse of Aaron - Mr.
Morgenthaler.  Suddenly, they were on a first name basis?  Marion shook her
head, chiding herself; the only place they were on a first name basis was
between her ears...

	Aaron glanced up at the mirror he'd placed the day before, and froze.
Marion was there, cleaning the glass door!  He shook himself.  So what?  He
was making a fool of himself; there was no way she would be interested in the
likes of him!  Hell, she was probably married!  After all, she was only
cleaning the door - that was something she did regularly!  But five minutes
later, she was still there, wiping and spraying - but looking toward Aaron's
cube!  It just didn't make sense!  Was she upset?  Was she going to complain -
claim he'd exposed himself to her deliberately?  Or, was it something else?

	Marion finished her thirteenth cleaning of the glass door, and
collected her cart.  Was he still there?  How could she tell without tipping
her hand?    She knew that he generally stayed after five, so it wouldn't be
unusual to find him there...  She muscled her cart through the door and
wheeled it toward the kitchenette that occupied a niche along the radial
hallway, providing coffee, a microwave, sink, and materials to make tea.  Time
to clean the sink and coffee pot...

	Aaron had to know what she was up to.  Obviously, she wanted to speak
to him, at least - and whether it was to berate him or to apologize, or...
something else, he couldn't just sit there and let the opportunity pass.  It
was time to make some tea!  Yeah, that was it!  He'd make a cup, making
himself available for whatever she had on her mind...

	Marion parked her cart and collected her spray cleaner, going to work
on the microwave.  Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, she turned
to look up the aisle, and Oh, God!  It was him!  Guiltily, she redirected her
eyes on her work, but she was wiping already clean surfaces as Aaron arrived
and squatted to collect a stack of paper cups from the lower cabinet.

	She continued to concentrate on the microwave as he stepped left,
sliding between her and the cart.  Instead of continuing on, however, in a
flash of insanity he decided to stand behind her, leaning over her left
shoulder and brushing her arm as he reached for a tea bag.  His murmured,
"Sorry!" rang insincere in both their ears, especially as he made a production
of remaining where he was while opening the packet and fishing out the tea
bag.  Marion stepped to her right and began to work on the coffee pot, and
Aaron stepped in on her left, angling for the hot water spigot on the
coffeemaker - and dead in Marion's way when she turned to empty a half-full
carafe in the sink to his left.  He stepped back allowing her to pass, but the
cart behind him offered an excuse to crowd her, and he took it.  He stepped
back in and began filling the cup, an action that was nowhere near finished
when Marion turned to replace the carafe, so he merely stepped back and raised
his arms, allowing her to squeak past under them.

	Marion was shaking like a leaf - obviously, Mr. Morgenthaler was
toying with her!  What did he know?  What did he suspect?  Certainly, he was
acting unusually aggressive!  She went to work on the second coffee carafe.

	Aaron, the excuse of the teacup filling having expired when it became
full, stepped to the right and collected some sugar packets.  He was frankly
amazed at himself; if Marion didn't have a sexual harassment complaint after
yesterday, he'd just provided her with one!  And she'd said nothing, despite
the fact that she'd made it clear with her gasp that she knew he was messing
with her!  What did it all mean?  Aaron made a production of opening his usual
three sugars and dumping them into the cup, then squatting to retrieve a
plastic teaspoon from the same cabinet where he had previously collected the
cup (a fine piece of inefficiency, that!) mumbled, "Thanks," and wandered
slowly off, his excuse for being there clearly exhausted.

	Marion had watched Aaron sidelong through the entire procedure - the
neat movements, the tea he selected, (Earl Grey, huh?), the slight grimace as
he went for the spoon, the unconscious cleanup as he dispensed with the empty
packets in the big can in her cart, rather than the small trashcan beside him.
She counted the sugar packets, filing away the number with the tea brand.  Why
was this so interesting?  Because a little domestic activity would spice up
her fantasy?  So she could dream of standing in the kitchen, nude, waiting for
the water to boil, his cup and spoon on a tray with the sugar bowl and his
favorite teabags, ready for her to deliver to his hand?

	Aaron sat in his cube, idly playing with the tea.  He hadn't really
wanted it - in fact, he had to go to the bathroom!  It was six-thirty; he'd
deliberately sat through the evening cleaning, and now the delay and his
excitement were working on him.  With one possible exception, his colleagues
had gone home already - thank God his little charade had gone unwitnessed!
Shaking his head at his foolhardiness, he sighed and rose, headed for the
door.

	Marion, cleaning the sink mechanically, froze.  As Aaron disappeared
through the door, Marion realized that she knew two things beyond doubt:  One,
his tea was untouched, and two, he was headed for the Men's Room!  Tossing her
paper towel into the trash can in her cart, she dashed to his cube and peered
in.  Sure enough, the cup sat there steaming, still completely full!  Dashing
back to her cart, she collected a roll of toilet paper and made a beeline for
the Men's Room!  She had no plan - just an imperative to be there when he
turned around...

	Aaron knew who was standing there when he heard the door fly open and
the three quick, light steps - and his cock began to swell even before he
turned his head to confirm it.  Marion stood there with the roll of toilet
paper in her hand, waiting, watching him.  Aaron suddenly knew EXACTLY what
she wanted, and turned to face her directly, his erection visibly extending
itself from his Dockers.  Marion's eyes shifted from his to the bar of hot
flesh as it rose and thickened, and she watched it, fascinated, as it attained
full size.  Then she just stood there, staring, willing him to... what?  Wave
her closer?  Tell her to get down on her knees and take it into her mouth?
Order her to bend over and drop her pants?  She realized that if he asked, she
would do any of those things, without hesitation; she was on fire!  But he
just stood there...

	Aaron sensed her thought process as though he was telepathic.  The
urge to snap his fingers and point to the floor before him was almost
irresistible - but something told him that this was neither the time nor the
place, and he held himself in check.

	The moment stretched itself to the breaking point - and beyond.
Marion dropped her eyes, blushed, mumbled, "I - I..." and ran from the room.
Outside, in the corridor, she staggered to the railing and once again stared
sightlessly at the marble flooring three levels below while her mind ran in
circles.  He hadn't wanted her!  Okay, his cock had, but his brain wasn't
along for the ride!  God, how embarrassing!  She was going to have to quit,
move to another team and another contract - she couldn't stay here after THIS!
She stood there, trembling with fear and need - and embarrassment.  But then a
pair of large, gentle hands settled on her hips, and a deep voice rumbled in
her right ear, "I think maybe we should talk, don't you?"

	Marion turned wide eyes on Aaron's.  She opened her mouth, but nothing
came out, so she nodded, dumbly.  Aaron's lips quirked, and he slid forward -
and a hot shaft wedged itself between the cheeks of Marion's ass!  Her eyes
closed and her pussy did this clench - and then it was soaking wet!  She could
feel her panty gusset go damp!  And the hands moved, sliding upward along her
ribs until gentle fingers enclosed the spikes of her stiffened nipples through
her blouse.  Marion leaned back and closed her eyes, sighing, and Aaron
continued, "Have you had dinner?"

	This time, her voice worked, "No."

	"Good," Aaron approved.  "When do you get off?"

	"Nine."

	"I'll wait, then.  Come to me when you're ready."  It was a dismissal,
but his beard and his lips tickled her neck as he stepped back and slid his
hands to her armpits, bringing her back to the vertical.  "I'll see you at
nine."  He stepped away, and walked off without looking back.

	Marion swayed there, trying to temper the rush of joy she felt with a
splash of common sense.  In a moment, she collected that ridiculous roll of
toilet paper and followed him back to IT to finish cleaning the kitchenette
and collect her cart.  She lingered as she passed his cube; there was a
rustle, and he stood there, eyeing her.  There was something in his gaze that
was proprietary...  Marion ducked her head and moved on, smiling.

	Aaron sat in his cube, staring at the wall.  Slowly, a grin stole
across his face, growing more and more until he was grinning from ear to ear.
His hands twitched, remembering the feel of a pair of stiff, spiky nipples -
and knowing that they would feel them again!

	For the next two hours, Aaron worked steadily, more in an effort to
burn the time than anything else.  At eight forty five, he started shutting
down and packing up, preparing for his departure.  Nine o'clock came and went,
and he began to wonder if Marion had regained her sanity - or just chickened
out - but at ten after, he heard the door open, and she presented herself at
the entrance to his cube, wearing a light jacket and clutching a purse.

	Aaron stood, pretending that he'd been waiting patiently and had had
no concerns about her coming, collected his hat and his laptop and waved to
her to precede him.  They took the back stairs - not because they were hiding,
but because both of them always did; neither gave it conscious thought.  When
they were outside, Aaron asked, "Where is your car?"

	"Over there," Marion husked, waving.  Aaron nodded approval; they'd
both parked in the same area of the lot.  He waved her forward, following her
to her slightly dated Buick.  Waving at a nearby Pontiac, he announced,
"That's mine.  Why don't you follow me?  We'll go to McGinty's, over on
Third."

	Marion nodded and unlocked the car with shaking hands.  The
intervening two hours had been agonizing - would he REALLY be there at nine?
Did he really want her?  Did she really want him?  What kind of insanity was
she getting herself into?  Did she care?  Aaron - she could think of him as
Aaron now, couldn't she? -  kept surprising her - but perhaps no more than she
surprised herself...  As they entered the main drag, she fished her phone out
of her purse and called home.  "Twy?"

	"Mom?"

	"Honey, I'm... going to dinner with someone.  Can you take care of
yourself tonight?"  Twyla usually awaited her mother, having dinner when she
got off.  Many times, she cooked it, too.  "You haven't cooked anything, have
you?"

	"No."  There was an embarrassed chuckle.  "Mickey and I..."

	Marion didn't want to know.  "Well, make him take you out, or
something, then!  He's got it too easy with you!  Tell him I said so!"

	There was a giggle, a murmured conversation, and more hilarity.  "He
says he knows.  He looks pretty smug, too!  Maybe we'll go somewhere
expensive!  Can't have him thinking I'm cheap!"  A loud male demurral sounded
in the background, and Marion smiled; Mickey was SUCH a jewel!

	"All right," Marion continued.  "I... may be late.  Don't wait up!
And one to a bed - it's a school night!"

	Twyla held the phone away from her staring at it like it had grown
horns.  What was this?  Momma, out late?  On a Tuesday?   "Do you want to talk
about this?" she queried.

	"Um, not until there is something to say," Marion replied cautiously.
"I'll...  tell you later, if it proves worth it."

	That did it - there was a MAN involved, no doubt about it.  Twyla
nodded to herself.  "I'll expect to hear an interesting tale!" she chuckled.

	"Well, I'll try to provide one!" Marion replied, thinking, 'And I hope
it won't be fiction...' as she hung up.

	The pair parked in the public lot behind the restaurant and entered
via the back entrance.  The waitress showed them to a booth, and took drink
orders, leaving them with the menus to peruse.  Mostly, however, they perused
each other, both wondering what they'd gotten themselves into.  Marion eyed
Aaron furtively; he wasn't really big, except perhaps by comparison to her -
maybe six feet.  He wasn't fat, and his movements were graceful.  She wondered
vaguely why he wasn't married - IF he wasn't married - he didn't seem to have
any obvious problems...

	Aaron eyed his catch.  Seated across a restaurant table, she bore a
much closer inspection than he'd ever essayed before.  His hands remembered a
firm, tight body with small, flat breasts - but with solid, rubbery spikes
atop them, almost an inch long!  Marion was... compact.  Yeah, that was it.
'She should have been a gymnast,' he mused.  Her hands were almost as big as
his, but narrower, smoother.  The slim fingers appeared to be strong, however,
the nails clipped to a no-nonsense length and painted with a none too exotic
shade of dark red that implied that she painted them because it was expected
in a woman, not because she really thought it important.  The shyness she was
projecting at the moment was at odds with her usual candor, furtive while
appearing downcast.  He realized that she was doing the same assessment he
was.  He hoped he'd passed - although the major pointage seemed to have been
garnered earlier in the evening and the day before...

	The waitress returned with their drinks - both had considered it safer
to order iced tea rather than something alcoholic - and asked the ritual "Are
you ready to order?" prompting both of them to realize that they had
squandered the traditional timeframe.  "Um, better give us another moment,"
Aaron hazarded.  Marion nodded, watching Aaron, rather than the waitress.  The
woman turned away, and Aaron added diffidently, "I guess we'd better get
serious about it - don't want to piss Flossie off..."

	"Flossie?"  Marion's eyebrows rose.

	"The waitress.  I eat here a lot - the fare is plain, but I don't
require much, and I'm a lousy cook."  Aaron grinned, "She probably wants to
know if you're a robot - she's never seen me without my laptop."

	Marion smiled noncommittally, and pretended to examine the menu while
she processed this remark.  It appeared that he was a bachelor, clearly - why?
Momma's boy?  Something else?  Mentally shaking herself, she actually DID
examine the menu, since he apparently was.  In a moment, Flossie returned, and
Marion ordered lasagna, while Aaron settled upon something called 'shepherd's
pie'.  This issue resolved, they resumed their mutual examination.  Finally,
Aaron broke the silence, "So, what now?"  At Marion's furtive glance, he
continued, "We seem to have discovered one another, at a very basic level;
where do we go from here?"

	"I... don't know," Marion replied.  "I'm sort of embarrassed..."

	"So am I," Aaron chuckled.  "Most of our relationship to date appears
to revolve around me exposing myself to you in the Men's Room!"  He paused a
moment, then, "Neither of us seems to have a solid explanation for THAT..."

	Marion blushed. "I..."  She really didn't seem to have anything
intelligent to say - 'You're hung like a horse, and I'm horny' seemed entirely
too blunt...

	Aaron chuckled, watching her face.  "I'd apologize, but somehow, I
don't think it's necessary.  Maybe for the first time..."  Obviously, the
second incident was deliberate, on Marion's part - even if her motivations
weren't exactly clear.  "Perhaps for that idiot dance in the kitchen..."

	Marion smiled - and Aaron enjoyed it.  "You were pretty obvious."

	"I lack subtlety where social interaction is involved.  It's a problem
I have."  Aaron eyed her over his lifted glass as he sipped his tea.

	"I wasn't exactly brilliant with my response!" Marion returned.  The
toilet paper excuse had been so thin that neither of them had wasted any time
with it...

	"Perhaps we should just try honesty?" Aaron hazarded.  "Who starts?"
Marion's look of fearful anticipation answered his question, so he began, "I'm
unmarried, at forty.  I have no significant other, at this point - no others
at all, actually."

	"Never married?" Marion blurted.  Oh, God, a Mama's Boy...

	Aaron looked sad.  "I was, for a couple of years when I was young.  I
loved her dearly, but I was a soldier, and it's a hard life, and even worse
for the spouse.  Broke, left alone for weeks at a time - she just couldn't
deal with it."

	"Nothing since?" Marion asked, surprised.

	Aaron waved a disparaging hand, "I'm not exactly a prime cut..."

	Marion felt the urge to argue, but that might prove too revealing.
"Children?"

	"None.  She found it difficult to conceive.  In hindsight, it's
probably a blessing - I came from a broken home; I wouldn't want to have
foisted the problem on MY offspring."

	The sadness on his face... Marion was touched.  But it was obviously
her turn:  "I'm thirty seven, divorced.  I have a seventeen year old daughter
who is likely to be moving out, soon - she's found a man, and they're very
happy..."  Good God!  How much had she revealed, there?  "Why don't you have
any - uh - lady friends?  I've seen a lot worse, happily married..."

	Aaron blinked, but treated the question as the simple query it was.
"I'm shy?  Not socially gifted?  I work a lot, and workplace rules regarding
sexual conduct are at an all-time record for being restrictive?  I could be
fired for the goings-on in the Men's Room, or even that transparent little
episode in the kitchen - even if you really DID enjoy them!"  He mused a
moment.  "I'm not ugly, but I'm not handsome, either.  I have to grow on a
woman, and I get very little exposure."

	Aaron's glance told Marion that the ball was back in her court, but
the food arrived, granting a momentary reprieve.  At the end of it, however,
she still didn't have anything too witty to come back with, so she just dove
in:  "I’m - not attractive.  I'm built like a boy, and ugly, and I just sit
too low on the totem pole.  I discovered with my first husband that bars are a
wonderful place to collect a loser - and I don't know of any other decent
places..."

	Aaron looked up from his fork.  "Boys don't have those nipples."  Then
shock rippled across his face.  "Sorry!" he apologized, "I TOLD you I wasn't
socially gifted..."

	Marion grinned.  "Sounded like a compliment to me..."

	Aaron chewed reflectively for a moment, and declared, "I will be bold,
then.  I would have to disagree with you - you're NOT ugly!  You have very
strong features, and they give your face character.    A shallow appraisal
might miss this, but no one should on second glance."

	Marion blinked, and replied, "I have a hard time understanding why YOU
should have trouble!   You're very... distinguished-looking..."

	Aaron chuckled.  "Most people refer to that as 'old'!"

	Marion moved right on to the hot water, "And you're, uh, well-
endowed..."

	A wild grin appeared on Aaron's face.  "That's not generally an Item I
reveal in public, our history to the contrary!"

	Marion went bright red and choked out, "No, I guess not..."  The pair
dealt with their meals for a bit, each absorbing the contents of the other's
responses.  Both had managed to embarrass themselves, and the only up-side was
that it WAS mutual...

	Finished, Aaron settled back.  "Okay, so, we're physically attracted
to each other, and neither of us has found a reason to run screaming from the
room when we discussed our history."  His lip quirked, something Marion was
beginning to realize was Aaron's equivalent of a smile, "Now what?"

	Marion opened her mouth - and promptly shut it.  Aaron nodded, sighed.
"We don't know, do we?  Neither of us..."  He stared vacantly into space for a
bit, then gathered himself.  "More questions, then.  What do you hope for in a
successful relationship between us?  What are you looking for?"

	Marion hesitated.  This was a classic; honest, direct answers to this
question were almost certain to result in the end of the relationship before
it even got off the ground!  Sex made her a slut, love made her desperate...

	Aaron was watching her, an eyebrow quirked.  "Come on," he chided,
"We've both been around the block.  I just need to know if there are any
surprises!  Be honest."

	Marion gathered herself.  "Intimacy, comfort, pleasure, protection,"
she ducked her head, but held his eyes, "Joy... Sex...Love..."

	Again, Aaron's lip quirked.  "Not meaningless sex?"

	Marion took a breath.  "I might... settle... for that..."

	Aaron chuckled.  "Let's not.  You did a much better job than I would
have - I'd have come up with something like 'waking up with someone soft and
cuddly next to me'."  Aaron's eyes bored in, "But I want what you want - all
of it.  Next question:  For how long?"

	Marion sucked in a breath; Aaron's eyes were hypnotic.  "I'll... take
what I can get."

	Aaron nodded.  "The practical answer.  But what is the optimal one?"

	Marion swallowed, trying to work around the lump in her throat, and
squeaked, "Forever?"  'That's done it,' she thought, 'This interview is over.
But he wanted honesty...'

	Aaron's lip had quirked again, however, and he didn't seem to be in
any hurry to call for the check...  Nodding, he announced, "Let's shoot for
that one, then.  Now for the kicker:  Give me your top three reasons why it
won't work!"

	"Huh?"  Marion blinked, confused, "I... don't understand."

	"It's really simple," Aaron replied, softly.  "Most of the time, when
you look at a relationship like this, you think, 'That would be wonderful,
but...' - and all kinds of practical reasons for not making the jump arise.
I'm looking for your top three.  Your daughter, perhaps?"

	"Noooo," Marion replied, "She would probably be thrilled!"  She sat
pondering, then looked up.  "I honestly can't think of any!"

	Aaron was really smiling; his teeth were showing, and it transformed
his face.  "Me either!  I think maybe we owe it to ourselves to give it a go!"

	"Uhhh..."  Marion floundered, shocky.  What was he saying?  What had
she committed to?  Had either of them REALLY said what she THOUGHT they'd
said?  "I-I pretty much made a fool of myself, but y-you..."

	"What?"  Aaron was nonplussed.  After a moment's thought, he murmured,
"Oh, I see.  I pressed you with all of these questions, and after you suffered
through the answers, I merely agreed with them - which wasn't so visible.  So,
let's be simple and declarative:  I, too want the things you want out of a
relationship - intimacy, pleasure, commitment, love, comfort, sex...  And I
want it to last for the same period - which for our purposes, I'll define as
'so long as we both shall live', should we prove compatible.  And, finally, I
don't really have any show-stopping skeleton in my closet that would cause us
to be unable to have a relationship.  How's that?"

	"Commitment..." Marion murmured.

	"Oh?"  Aaron was the picture of innocence.  "I added something?  Bad?"

	"No, I like it - a lot!" Marion grinned.

	Aaron produced the signature quirk of the lips.  "Well, we haven't
exactly done it the normal way, but I think we've covered a lot of ground.  I
also think that there might have been a bit more truth involved than usually
comes out on the first date.  For two people who don't know what they're
doing, I think we're doing well!"

	Marion smiled back.  "If you say so.  So what's next?"

	Aaron frowned.  "I don't know.  Popular wisdom says we can't have sex
until the third date - and this is the first, unless we count the incidents in
the Men's Room and the kitchenette.  Nonetheless, I think we should do
something a bit more intimate - go somewhere quiet and see where a little
physical activity takes us."  Locking eyes with Marion, he uttered the loaded
question, "Your place or mine?"

	"Um,” Marion dropped her eyes, and Aaron wondered if he'd pushed too
hard, but they came back up.  "Yours.  My daughter and her boyfriend..."

	"We might get in each other's way?" Aaron's eyes were smiling, which
was apparently more important than what his mouth was doing.  "Okay.  Are you
done?"

	Marion, realizing that she'd only consumed about half of her meal, was
momentarily torn - should she stop, so they could rush out, or finish?  But
Aaron wasn't done, either, and she was loathe by training to leave good food
in place.  "No, let's finish."

	Aaron nodded and picked up his fork, digging it into the oddity he was
eating, which seemed to have mashed potatoes for a crust.  After taking a bite
and chewing reflectively, he started another sally, "Another question, this
one not so vanilla," he began.  "This one revolves around... control."

	Marion looked up and swallowed the current bite.  "Control?"

	"Yes," Aaron responded, then paused, wondering, 'How do I approach
this?  Is it THAT important?'  But he'd promised himself... "Linda - my ex -
and I set a pattern where she dispensed her charms more or less at whim, early
in our relationship.  Later, it became a punishment and reward thing, usually
punishment.  Toward the end, there was apparently no reason for any rewards at
all..."  He gathered himself and collected Marion's eyes, "I realize that in
the current period of backlash of millennia of male oppression, I haven't a
leg to stand on, but..."

	Marion blinked, surprised. "You want control over our sex life?"
Aaron blushed, and looked away, but Marion sat there, thinking.  Ed had NEVER
asked - he'd just told her what he wanted, and she'd complied.  It had never
been an issue...  Was it, now?

	Aaron cursed himself.  'Shot down before we even got to bed!  What a
fucking idiot I am!  Is it THAT important?'

	But Marion cut through this with, "I'm disposed to be cautious, but,
frankly, my ex always just kind of took what he wanted, and I don't remember
ever really being unhappy about it.  How would we control such a thing?"  Her
eyes twinkled.  "How do I keep YOU from punishing ME?"

	Aaron chuckled in delight at this saucy rejoinder, then discovered he
didn't really have an answer.  "That's a good question.  Frankly, I can't see
such a thing happening for any length of time, but control is control; I guess
if you granted it to me, I might find a way to abuse it - although it seems to
me like an exercise in cutting my nose off to spite my face.  How about we
shelve it for now as negotiable?"

	"Okay."  Marion took another bite.

	Aaron did too, obviously finishing.  "You know," he ruminated, "I
should have ordered wine.  God knows what I might have gotten away with if I'd
plied you with liquor..."  The mouth quirk was back; Marion was beginning to
understand Aaron's wit.

	Marion giggled, something Aaron hadn't been treated to yet.  "I don't
remember kicking and screaming, anywhere.  What more could you want?  Besides,
Ed was a lush; I don't drink much.  And while that makes me easier to get
drunk, I'm hoping I'll have reason to be happy I have clear senses, later."

	Aaron's eyebrows went up, but he didn't comment.  What did that mean,
exactly?  Was he going to be told to keep his hands to himself at some point,
or was she planning to enjoy herself?

	Marion, for her part, didn't realize that the comment was ambiguous,
so Aaron's response confused her a bit.  Was she being too forward?
Eventually, they were going to approach sex; Marion pretty much felt that her
display in the Men's Room removed all doubt that she was interested, so...
Aaron was being very gallant - how could she let him know that she WANTED
things pushed through to a successful conclusion without reinforcing the
impression that she was a total slut?  Hurriedly, she bolted the last of her
lasagna.  "I'm ready."

	"Okay."  Aaron got the waitress' attention, and they were soon at the
counter cashing out.  Marion noticed that Aaron tipped generously; from the
attention he got, she assumed it to be habitual.  Something to file away...
As they stepped away from the counter, Aaron handed her a slip of paper.  "In
case something untoward happens while you're following me," he amplified.
"It's in the Highlands, off Montvale."

	Marion nodded; she'd seen the apartment complex before.  The pair
exited the restaurant and headed for their cars, Aaron watching Marion get in
and started.    Then the pulled out onto Third, headed for Aaron's apartment
and whatever adventure awaited there.