FAZIO LOVED WOMEN.
In all shapes, sizes, and colors; it made absolutely no difference to him. He didn't understand how men could be attracted to other men. It just didn't make sense to him. Women were beautiful, voluptuous, and curvaceous, nothing at all about a man was appealing to him. Licking his dry lips he sat across the bar, watching the stripper in front of him twirling around the pole.
It was glorious to watch those breasts bouncing up and down.
The woman's face however was below average, a little older than he would have liked, but still very talented. Signaling to the bartender he ordered another drink, breathing deeply through his nose. It wasn't long before his drink arrived, along with the person he came to see.
"You're late," Fazio said, sipping his scotch.
"I needed to pick up a few things."
