"Kan du ikke også lige tørrer mine ben af?" Spurgte hun."Jo" svarede jeg usikkert. Jeg viste at jeg ikke kunne undgå at se hendes fisse nu. Jeg sta...tede ved hendes fødder og arbejdede mig op. Jeg nåede op og så hendes fisse. Min pik blev endnu mere stiv end før. Jeg gjorde an til at stoppe, men blev afbrudt af Birthe. "Kan du ikke bare tørrer mig helt når du nu er i gang?" Spurgte hun. "Jo" svarede jeg endnu mere usikkert end første gang. Jeg tog noget nyt papir og begyndte at tørre hendes. Her? Our? Story in poetical prose of rhythmic stanzas that will curl a girl's toes. No rings she donned, “I’m a free woman” her song, As she crossed her long shapely legs, And looked at me impishly one table away, I safely went back to my book and read. I felt young eyes staring at me, With self proclaimed liberty, The phantom raising a glass of wine, To make a toast only it can find, So her eyes burned in me. Like an itch you can not scratch, At least not publicly, Not wishing to look but. More

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