Maybe he hasn't. And I'm standing up and shaking the dust from my ass, and he comes alive quick and reaches into his pocket, fumbling a little, and then counts out nine more fives into my hand. He's still not saying a word, so I smile at him and turn away, walking down the empty street and not caring that my feet still hurt 'cause I've got fifty dollars in my pocket and a sopping wet pussy. This work is copyright M.A. Mohanraj 1998, all rights reserved. Please don't repost this or make it publically accessible via FTP, mail server, or archive site without my explicit permission.
Permission is granted for one hard copy for personal use.