Open Fly

Jeez, his fly is open. Well, nothing’s sticking out, except a little of his blue shirt. I guess his thing isn’t blue.

And he’s such a nice- looking gentleman. He looks sort of like Sean Connery, only a little younger than right now.  He’s so well dressed—except for his fly, of course.

He seems to be waiting for something, someone maybe. I mean, he’s so easy to look at and a lot of other women are looking at him as they pass him, but then that swatch of blue takes their eyes right down to his crotch.

I just have to let him know, somehow, that he’s embarrassing himself—or maybe if he never knows, he won’t be embarrassed.

But he’s surely going to find out sometime today and the longer he doesn’t know the more he’s going to be embarrassed.

“Uh, sir—may I tell you something?”

“Of course, ma’am. What is it?’

“Uh, you haven’t zipped up completely.”

He looks down and chuckles. “Well, so I haven’t. Will you walk with me to a place where I can correct this, and you can shield me from view for a second?”

“Sure. How about behind that big pillar in front of the bank?’

“Will you take my arm as we stroll there?”

She feels suddenly hot and helpless and needs to hang on to something. His arm seems perfect. They go around the pillar, and he turns toward it as she stands with her back to him. He quickly makes the necessary adjustment.

“Now, may I know your name and whether you would like to be rewarded with a lunch that I was to have with someone who hasn’t shown for her appointment?”

Weeks later, as she lay in his bed, feeling it probably would be for the last time now that he was clearly bored with her, she realized he has used this ruse before.

I wonder if something like that would work for me?

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