>>pub. She gestured
>>alluringly to the bartender who approached her
>>immediately. She
>>seductively signaled
>>that he should bring his face closer to hers. As he
>>did, she gently
>>caressed
>>his full beard.
>>
>>"Are you the manager?" she asked, softly stroking his
>>face with both
>>hands.
>>
>>"Actually, no," he replied.
>>
>>"Can you get him for me? I need to speak to him," she
>>said, running her
>>hands beyond his beard and into his hair.
>>
>>"I'm afraid I can't," breathed the bartender. "Is
>>there anything I can
>>do?"
>>
>>"Yes. I need for you to give him a message," she
>>continued, running her
>>forefinger across the bartender's lips and slyly
>>popping a couple of her
>>fingers
>>into his mouth and allowing him to suck them gently.
>>
>>"What should I tell him?" the bartender managed to
>>say.
>>
>>"Tell him," she whispered, "there's no toilet paper,
>>hand soap, or paper
>>
>>towels in the ladies room."
