Ellen and Amy are already gone.

Leaning against the wall in the toilet, you take a deep breath, then another, and another, as the sexual tension seeps out of your body. That should help you clear your head for a bit. Taking the wad of toilet paper that received your emergency relief load, you drop it into the bowl and flush away the evidence with a sigh.

You step to the sink, pump out a squirt of lavender-scented liquid soap, and wash your hands. With a laugh, you moisten a paper towel with warm water and soap and swab your penis as well. All is soon patted dry.

You take Amy’s ribbon out of your pants and tie it loosely around the base of your deflating cock. It can’t hurt and it may reap benefits later tonight. You bite your lip. Unless Ellen is first to see it. Well, life's a gamble.

Taking a quick inventory of yourself before you head back out to the table, you make sure you don’t have any toilet paper stuck to your shoe or have left your zipper undone. Taking a deep breath, you push the door to the restroom open and prepare to face the women at your table, be they the Graces or the Furies. Or perhaps you're finding yourself in a replay of the Judgment of Paris. Ellen, Ellen, Ellen, are you going to let those girls steal me? Or is it all your idea?

Outside the restroom is your waitress, young, pierced, and extra petulant at having to wait for you. She gives you a suspicious glance. You shrug and pass the restroom key to her on its wooden spoon. As she steps past, you catch a scent of amber essence on her hair. She slams the door and you hear the seat thump down. "Men!" she grunts.

As you walk back to your table, you can feel the ribbon brushing against your legs. You can still taste Sherah on your lips from Amy's finger. Easy, slow, easy, you tell yourself as you try to keep your breathing even.

When you return, you see Sherah sitting alone at the table, nursing her mocha. The dark-haired girl with the short-on-the-sides haircut, the black tank top and the gynecological pearl pendant looks up as you return.

"Where's Ellen?" you ask, "And Amy?"

Sherah hands you a folded note. You open it and recognize Ellen's handwriting, her beautiful cursive slightly askew in her hurry: "Forgot doc's appointment! Sorry, see you after." And Amy's heavier printing: "Don't let Sherah wear you out!"

"Ellen forgot she had an appointment at Aunt Margaret's," Sherah says. "She's a little nervous since it's her first time, so she wanted Amy to come along."

"Aunt Margaret's?"

"The Margaret Sanger Clinic. Widley's student sex clinic," Sherah says. "I can tell Nurse Lewis is a letch, though I doubt Ellen would notice. But at least she's good at her job."

You swallow. "Oh," you say. Maybe that was good news, though, that she had planned the appointment.

"So you've probably got an hour-and-a-half, two till she gets back," Sherah says. "Wanna play Boy Scout?" she asks.

"Huh?"

"You're friendly, courteous, and cheerful," she says. "I thought I'd try for 'Helpful'. Later on we can test you on 'Obedient' , 'Brave', and 'Reverent'."

"You pulling my leg?" you ask.

"Might as well get what I can out of the patriarchal institution of chivalry," she says. She takes a deep breath and clears her throat. "A Scout is Helpful. A Scout is concerned about other people. He does things willingly for others without pay or reward." She smirks at you. "Though I could probably spring for a Coke. Maybe even a movie ticket. Like horror movies?"

She's teasing you again about that lesbian vampire movie that she and Amy were going to tonight.

"It'd hardly be loyal, trustworthy, or kind to run out on my hostess," you say.

"Ah-ha!" Sherah says. "I knew you'd know the Scout Law."

You give Sherah a look. "Jealous?"

"Yeah, the Girl Scout Law never sounded as good," she says. "So, you wanna burn off some of your testosterone poisoning with a little pro bono work?" she asks.

"Like what?"

"Eat, eat, you'll need your strength," she says.

You dig into your lunch as she proposes a little unskilled labor while Ellen's busy.