Frankie pulled into the first motel he found. It was late, and he had been driving all day. After checking in, he went to the room and tossed his suitcase on the desk and flopped on the bed.

Frankie was on the road for one reason. He just left his wife of eight years and his kids, a son and a daughter. The problem wasn’t with them; it was him. For years now, he’s been struggling with his inner self about his sexuality. Anita, his wife, was a very beautiful woman. At twenty-eight, her figure was fantastic even after bearing two children.

They had been arguing at night in the privacy of their bedroom about his lack of desire for her, and she was left to think that he was cheating on her. Many times, Frankie wanted to tell her that it wasn’t her; it was just that he no longer was affected by her body. It didn’t “turn him on”.

Just last night during a very loud verbal argument, Frankie finally sat down and calmly tried to explain what was happening to him. He showed her that it wasn’t her fault at all and that he would rather look at some guy in the shower than her naked.

Anita tried to listen to him explain, but she felt like half a woman now that he had told her. She asked him to move out so they could both get on with their lives.

Frankie didn’t know where to go. He just knew it was best that he left and just drove west. Now he was in a motel, alone and wondering where he was going to go. His stomach started to growl on him, and he realized he had not stopped to eat since breakfast.

He lifted the phone and got the front desk. “Is there any place nearby to get some food?”

The man said, “The closest place would be ‘Quincy’s’. Good food, but it’s kind of a hochie-coochie establishment.”

“Okay, thank you,” Frankie said as he hung up.

He got in his car and drove up the road. He saw the large flashing “Quincy’s” sign and pulled into the parking lot. The lot was pretty full, and he was lucky to find a spot.

As he walked alongside the building, he saw marques showing some of the dancers that were featured inside, and it didn’t affect him in the least; he was just hungry.

Entering, he was greeted and was told there was a ten-dollar cover charge, which he paid, then asked about the food.

“Got a good deal on an eighteen-ounce T-bone steak, baked potato, and salad,” the man said.

“Sounds good to me. I’m hungry,” Frankie said. He went through the inner door and found himself a table and checked out his surroundings.

All the waitresses were dressed in gowns which revealed a lot of cleavage and cut up high on each side to expose their legs too. The dancer on stage was down to her panties and was really giving the customers their money’s worth. Her breasts had tassels on them, and they were twirling in circles as she moved.

His waitress arrived. “Hi! I’m Sharon. I’ll be your waitress tonight. Can I start by getting you something to drink?”

“Yes, please. Bring me a scotch on the rocks, make it a double, and be sure they use Dewar’s.”

“Yes, sir. Be right back with your drink.”

Frankie watched the sway of her ass as she walked away and felt a slight chill. Thinking to himself,” Now why her, hell Anita is better looking than her, but why did I just get that feeling?” He sat in his chair, and soon she was walking with his drink in her hand.

He checked her out and realized that he was looking right at her breasts when she bent down to place his drink on the table. She seemed to be holding that pose for longer than necessary. His cock started to get hard.

As she straightened up, she looked at his face and said, “Can I interest you in something to eat?”

He watched as her pinky finger went to her breast and moved slowly over the swell of her left breast.

She was getting to him for some reason. “Ah ... Yes, please! I’d like the T-bone dinner.”

“Oh, that’s my favorite here,” she said. “ How would you like that cooked?”

“Medium-well, please.”

“Okay, I’ll put the order in for you. By the way, I didn’t get your name.”

“Frankie, Frankie Pullman.”

“Well, Frankie, anything you want or need tonight, ask me. And I do mean anything too.”

For some reason, Frankie was starting to sweat just a little as he looked into her face. His cock, for the first time in years, was hard as a rock from looking at a woman.

Sharon was considered to be “a looker” in her circles. Her long red hair reached to the middle of her back. It was silky, and the lights made her hair sparkle. She had deep green eyes and a perfect face. She was about five-seven in height, and her body appeared to be sculpted.