The successful Wall Street broker has his opinion. So...what are girls made for? He suggested trying a little...adding up. A little simple arithmetic.
Why else did they wear skimpy, come-feel-them halters, and tight, see-my-pussy shorts or jeans? Jamming and drawing themselves in so tight as to draw a picture...Clear damn picture of a little indented straight line with everything showing. Picture entitled, See-My-Line, Get-In-Right-Here, Successful-Wall-Street-Man!
Why else did they draw this kind of map-to-their-pussy in their skin-tights?
What else could the logic be?
And don't tell him this picture was not very carefully designed, studied and signed off on with the help of a large, full length mirror?
What else could the logic be of pouring herself into a sweater to sculpt a display of nipples under the intense pressure of a size much too small?
To Wall Street Man the math was: One plus one made two. They wanted, invited a fuck. And he was ready to oblige. One plus one made two.
What did I think, he wanted to know?
I said no doubt about it. Something was being advertised here. They were advertising availability. Availability was being promoted. They were ready to put out.
But for whom? Who was invited to the party? Everybody, or only Prince Charming?
'Wall Street,' said Wall Street Man.
Ins and Outs on the Ups and Downs that include some Notes on the Cut, Thrust and Parry that is part of the Great Game--Sexual Politics. And encompassing too Single Men and Women and the Pleasures of Youth.
