Chapter 84

“I can’t recall the last time I had dinner with a woman,” said Oliver, sipping his flute of wine and anxiety curled up his lips as he stared into her face happily.

“Most of the dinner I had only succeeded in making me regrets having them,” Eva’s mother replied, stretched her hand to a pack of cigar which Oliver had included as part of their recipe.

“Do you smoke?” he asked, shooting his curious needy eyes at her.

“I am an occasional smoker,” she replied, taking off the cigar from her lips so as to speak freely and confidently, “Also after good, satisfactory fuck I smoke so you see I am an occasional smoker.” Finally she took the cigar into her tiny pink, kiss-it lips and caught it in the blue flame of the butane lighter.

Oliver wanted to know of her age, but he would never forget the embarrassing experience in the past, when he asked some random girls on the street about their age; and how they cursed and nagged at him.

He had only come to realize that only a few women were comfortabl