No, who's next?

Enjoyable as the encounter in the bar was, Jason felt it was somehow far more satisfying to fuck the people he already knew. Even after fucking the Milf, he still daydreamed of Vic's wife and daughter. He wondered too, about whether he should start fucking more of the people at his work. He even started thinking about the barmaids at McGeever's and of his ex-wife who had sucked his dick only a couple of days ago. Maybe he should call her, he pondered as he stepped out onto the street.

He took out his pen and notepad, and began to write still without being clear on who he wanted to fuck next.

"The women I know all want to have sex with me and will try to seduce me."

There, he thought, that ought to do it!

Suddenly his phone started to ping.

Jason, give me a call please - from Cora.

Hey Mr T. Wanna hang? - from Chelsea, Vic's kid.

Hi big boy! - from his sister Barbara in Chicago. (Fuck he thought, his family would be included in his last message! He hadn't thought about that!)

A number he didn't recognize texted him. "Hi, I hope you don't mind me messaging you like this Sir. I just wondered if you might like to do anything with me this evening?"

Jason was intrigued, particularly at being called Sir. "Sure", he replied, "I'm at Pearson Street, outside the '39 bar. Come and get me".

He let the rest of his messages go unanswered and waited. Ten minutes later a small hatchback pulled up beside him and the door opened.