After coffee and port, I thought I’d ask about her business, how she got into it, and if she really enjoyed it as much as it seemed she did.

“Oh, yeah, I love it and it’s great exercise. I used to work in an old people’s home. Loved to see the pleasure in their faces, and now I treat these customers the same way I treated them.”

almost choked. What could possibly be the comparison? “How so?”

“Just with respect. I didn’t dance for the oldies. For example, when I lap dance, I just imagine the guys are old and harmless and I’m doing something special for them before they die.”

I burst out laughing. “You’re kidding?”

“No.” She laughed, too. “That way if they try and get frisky, I’ve already got it in my mind they can’t help it, so I don’t get mad at them or demand they get kicked out. Usually they’re the ones who end up embarrassed and apologize. It works for me when I look at it that way.”

“I suppose I can understand that.” I’d never thought about it before, but I had wondered if men turned her on and now I was none the wiser.

She told me, “Most men who come in showing off are really insecure. If you could break down that macho façade they put up, you’d find they’re only doing what they think they should to show their male friends just how cool they are.”

“What makes you so knowledgeable?”

“I studied psychology for a while, put some of the pieces together. The part of my job I love the most is when disabled guys come in and I get to give them a small amount of pleasure in what can be at times for them an unbearable and often unfulfilling sexual life.”

I studied her while she spoke. She was certainly complex and, after what she said, I thought she must have a heart of gold. It seemed she only saw good in people. In this day and age there weren’t many like her around.

“Well, you’re certainly good at it. It comes across how much you love it.”

“Thanks, that’s what everyone says. Helps that I’m not into men, either.” There, she said it, as I’d hoped she would. I almost choked with joy.

“You’re a lesbian?” I asked.

“Sure, aren’t you?”

“Er -- no, actually, yes. I’m just discovering myself. I’ve never been with a woman.”

“Oh, I never would have guessed. You’re so easy to talk to and be with. I feel as though I’ve known you for years.”

“Thanks, I feel the same about you,” I said, wondering what her cunt would taste like.

“We can still be friends, right?”

“Sure, why not? More than friends, if you like?” I held my breath, hoping I wasn’t going in over my head if I allowed the conversation to keep going on this track.

“You’re sure?”

“As soon as I laid eyes on you, I knew I wanted to be with you, to touch and feel you. I’m obsessed with you. I couldn’t sleep last night just thinking about you and hoping you felt the same way about me. I can’t imagine my life now without you.”

“But you said you’re not a lesbian?”

“It’s not that I’m not, it’s just that I don’t know. I’m hoping you’ll show me the ropes, teach me all I need to know.”

“That will be my pleasure, if you’re positive it’s what you want. I don’t want to make you do something you’re not sure of,” she said.

“Oh, I want to, believe me. I just don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You won’t.” She laughed as she took me by the hand and lead me to her bedroom. “How can you even think that?”