The German

He gave me a look as if to say he thought I was willingly hanging around for more—but I’d had enough that weekend of the “more” he had to give.

“I paid up front,” he said.

“I understand that,” I answered. “I’m just waiting for the car to come around.”

“Oh,” he said and started to walk off. But then me turned and said, “You were great. A great and enduring lay. I’ll commend you to your service.”

“Thank you,” I answered, and then added, because it was the truth, “You have possibly the longest and most talented cock I’ve ever had inside me. If you do this again, feel free to ask for me specifically.”

“Oh . . . thanks,” he said, clearly pleased. To show that he really was pleased, he dug into his back pocket, came up with a wallet, extracted a hundred-euros note from it, and handed it to me.

“You don’t have to tip me,” I said, but both of us knew I was just being polite. I’d already taken the banknote.