You're out at dinner with friends. Sir gets up from the table and subtly gestures for you to meet him out the back of the restaurant. You watch his steady stride as he passses the kitchen. After a minute you excuse yourself, saying you need the bathrom too.

Your body shivers in antiicipation of what Sir wants of you. You turn the corner and  see him leaning against a fire escape with a joint in hand. Those hands that conduct your pleasure like a symphony...