"Harry Burns," Marsha chided, "I think you're out of your mind. Even if you do con her into bed with you, which I doubt, unless you rape her, I don't think you'd ever get a couple like that to go along with a group swap. They're just too young and naive. Why, I bet they haven't even been married a year."

"Right you are, baby," Harry said as he rose to mix more drinks. "But that's the kind that when they fall, they fall hard. It'll be fun trying anyway even if we don't succeed and we will. Have you ever seen old Harry fail yet, baby?"

"No, I guess not," Marsha had to admit. He just seemed to have a way with him that brought him anything he wanted. Women were always repulsed by him at first just as she had been in the beginning, but sooner or later, he worked a way to get to them. And God help them once he did, she mused.

"Make mine a double this time, lover, I think I'm going to need it to keep from crying over the fate you've got planned for this poor little girl next door."

"Poor little girl, my tail." Harry responded sarcastically from behind the bar. "Have you seen that set of boobs she carries around in front of her? Man I can't wait to get my teeth into those."

"Well, don't get overly excited and bite them off." Marsha retorted, a bored tone in her voice. "That's known as the crime of mayhem."

"Mayhem, scayhem," laughed Harry. "It just might be worth ninety days in the hoosegow to get a nibble at those. I'd be willing to risk it anyway."

"Oh, shut up and bring my drink. I hate to see you get worked up this way over some other little slut and then take it out on me all afternoon. Come on and tell me this plan of yours so I can get worked up, too. You know, I just might enjoy teaching that poor innocent young boy a thing or two. I feel most motherly every time I see him."

"You're not that old, chicken," he laughed, walking to the window again with the full glasses in his hands. "Man-o-man, look at that tight little ass almost hanging out of those shorts. There oughta be a law against that."