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It would have been much easier and safer if I’d simply asked him if he was gay. I’m certain he’d have given me an honest answer, and that would have been the end of it.As it was I was constructing a maze I was getting lost in. One outcome of the flirtation was that I was finding Gage more appealing, more fascinating, and somehow sexier. I began to wonder what he was like in bed. I found myself imagining what it would be like to bed him. I speculated who would drive who “up the wall”. Would he beg me to fuck him or would I plead with him to let me show him what I can do?This isn’t where I had wanted to go, but here I was.But then again, was he here with me, or was this all on me? The answer to this conundrum was simple. I had to find out. I had to get him in bed. I had to make love to him.Of course, there was the “problem” of Penny. She was his sister and she was there, “there” being in our lives and in my bed.But, as it often does, it turned out I was envisaging obstacles that. I extended my hand to her. "Martin Burke ma'am, my friends call me Marty." I didn't know at time that it was pushy as hell for a man to extend his hand to a woman. I had a lot to learn. Either Peggy didn't know herself, or she overlooked it. In Peggy's case it was a toss up.We followed the waitress to a table set with four plates but fit only for two. It was still close to the kitchen door. I expect it was the hostess's try at regaining control of the situation. She had a very small fiefdom, but she obviously planned to defend it.I walked past her to the best table in the overflor room. It was one of only three by the windows which faced the rear of the restaurant. I chose the only one without a view of the dumpster. The hostess angrily snapped down the menus before leaving.Peggy Sue actually smiled when she said, "You know they may never take our order?" Ma'am, I wasn't kidding everything I've had to eat for the last week has been wrapped in paper and came in a bag, or it was.
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