Out of modesty, I looked away. Foolishly, perhaps. The synapses started firing, and I realized that if what I'd chosen not to see at all resembled that monstrous dildo he was wearing onstage, well, then... and the tour bus was right there and all.
Apparently, there weren't many sluts to be had, the way the club had cleared out. At that rate, the boys needed all the time they could get. Besides, a stronger impulse started to kick in.
Around the corner, Briny's Irish Pub's Photo Hunt machine beckoned.
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