"I like your hat," she says.
This catches his attention.
No remark about seeing her naked on his bedroom floor.
No forced sexual innuendo.
He turns from his glass and looks at her.
"I like your dress," he says back.
And he does.
And maybe he'd like to see her without it.
But he'd never tell.
Not now, at least.
And that's all they say, the entirety of the words they exchange that night.
She doesn't take a cent from his pocket and he doesn't take a single taste of her body.
And after he leaves for the night, retiring to his lonesome abyss, he permits his mind to wander.
He wouldn't mind losing his virginity to her.
