Wireless fidelity

Plastic People come there — and so is she. They have a beautiful prehistoric iMac G3 in the back library-slash-office, I had one of those once, too. The bar is usually crowded and noisy. And polluted. Smoking is still allowed in pubs in this country. I should hate this place, yet I love it.

I didn't expect to see her — at least not anytime soon. She called saying she had a problem with wi-fi and asked if I could come over to fix it. Yeah, I guess I could. Instead, we met there. She talked a lot and I patiently listened. And then we went sleeping at her place. Separate beds — for those who care.

The morning was lovely and intoxicating, it felt like mornings in Paddington. I went to buy ingredients and she prepared a luxury breakkie. We giggled as if... —

I slapped her ass few times as she danced around the kitchen more naked than clothed. I could sense her pussy under almost non-existent panties. Then she stripped and I gave her a massage. How close were we? Could I? Couldn't I?

I didn't. I know where to find her and she knows who to call in case there's an issue with wi-fi again.