"Oh, Butler, it was incredible, with the fuckin' pillows under her belly, the fuckin' K-Y jelly, mmmmuh! All the way in."

"She took it all the way, huh?"

"All the fuckin' way in, man, she didn't even flinch. It was so tight an' nice an' that fuckin' jelly. I don't know who invented that K-Y but the guy should get the Nobel Prize. It's greaseless, it's stainless, painless, you name it."

"Did she dig it?" Butler was spread-legged in his chair, eyes going in different directions.

"She came!"

"She came?" Butler slid off his chair and fell on the floor.

"An' in the mornin' I wake up and she made me breakfast in bed. Like a sultan, Butler, orange juice, toast, a mushroom omelet, hot coffee."

"Mushroom omelet!" Butler groaned, covering his face with his hands.

A girl came in, long black hair, dangling earrings, lean face, make-up. Butler scrambled up from the floor. "Yes."

"Two pairs, thirty-four, honeytone."

"Thirty-four, honeytone." Butler gawked at her. He turned to Stony, "Thirty-four honeytone!" He turned to the shelves. "Thirty-four honeytone!" Stony saw Butler had a hard-on a mile long. He pulled out a box, flipped it open on the counter, extracted two pairs, draped one across the inside of his forearm, caressed the material while staring at the girl. "This is honeytone."

"Yeah, I know." She looked at him suspiciously, opened her pocketbook and fished around for money.

"Anything else? Pantyhose? Bras? Panties?" he asked hopefully.

"No."

Butler handed her the package. She put a dollar-eight on the counter. Butler took her hand and placed it over the money. "On the house, dear." He looked like he was in pain. Stony held a hand over his eyebrows as if shielding his eyes from the sun. He tried not to crack up. She slid the money off the counter back into her pocketbook. "Thanks." She stared at him queerly.

"Come back soon." Butler waved at her retreating back, then squeezed Stony's knees. "Honeytone!" He got down on his knees. "I found my calling." He collapsed on his back.

Butler's Uncle Frank came into the store, a short bald guy with gray sideburns, gold-rimmed aviator glasses, a silky brown body shirt over a pot belly, gold and brown hound's-tooth double-knit slacks. He was startled to see Stony behind the counter. "Where's Bobby?"

"He's on the floor."

Butler got up, dusted off his pants.

"What the hell you doin' on the floor?"

"I lost a contact."

Frank leaned over the counter, looked down. "I thought maybe there'd be somebody down there with you."

Butler smirked at Stony. "Wise guy here."

Frank grinned, revealing perfectly even gleaming white false teeth. He grabbed Butler around the neck and pinched his cheek while grinning at Stony. "I love this fuckin' kid, he'd like to bang everything that walks inta this place, wants to get some nice granma in trouble." Butler's face turned red. He rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out in mock strangulation.

"Least I don't go after the delivery men." Butler straightened his collar, the red draining from his face.