At one point, Paolo boasted about being popular with the ladies. He did not know what drew them, was it was the suave accent or the dashing grin? Whatever it was, the doe-eyed looks of the myriad fiery-loined females and the envious glares of the men made him smirk. They came to drink him with their eyes asthey did their morning coffee.
As of a week ago, being a sex icon had become a curse.
A sharp whistle shocked Paolo out of his stupor. "Looks like someone is popular." Sabine snickered maliciously.
Paolo felt a bead of sweat trickle down his neck. It was those pests again, a gaggle of college girls. Or rather, they had been girls up until a week ago, when the schools had revealed that horrible, horrible policy. Now, those cute heads piloted massive, muscular masculine frames.
Meeting his gaze, one of them gave a cheerful wave, he swore he saw another's hand vanish beneath the table. He shuddered. After they had been swapped, the regulars had become more sexually aggressive. And given that each and every one of this batch of girls looked as if they could snap his spine over her knee...
"Why not knock something over? Get the attention of the sickos above us?" Sabine whispered. "I bet they'll appreciate having a pussy to plow."
"Shut up." Paolo grumbled. He wanted to tell Sabine to go deal with this on his behalf, yet, even as he was emasculated by the presence of these Adonis-built college sluts, he had just enough masculine pride not to vocalize it.
Paolo sucked in a breath of air and approached. "What would you like to order?"
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