He slides his length into her with a steady, almost aggressive movement. She moans and bights his shoulder where she had managed to get his coat coll...r open enough to find bare skin. “Weren’t you wearing panties?”She lets his shoulder go and giggles before answering him. Eyes locked intently. “I left them in the car as a gift”. She pants heavily. Whimpers, and suffers an orgasm. It doesn’t squirt. It floods their crotches. They both become sticky. She hasn’t had enough to drink so her fluids. She folded her arms self-consciously and opened her eyes. She deliberately didn’t look at the thing on the table. Instead, she examined the floor, with its threadbare rug, the walls, which were adorned with unabashed abstracts, the ceiling, with its artful cobweb that danced the length of the room. George thought about dust for a few seconds (she possessed a busy mind): its applications, its random formations, its texture. Then she directed her field of vision to the table, and to the thing. I went into the tiny bedroom and broke out the three bucks I had stashed from serving funerals and baptisms at the “Spanish Church” up the block. I don’t know the exact reason my sisters and I went to the Spanish Church instead to the church of our parish, but I think it had something to do with an argument between my mom and the pastor over her not taking any help from the parish “do-gooders” and the fact she didn’t hide the fact she smoked cigarettes and drank a bottle of beer from time to. Was verflucht wolle die alle hier. Wo wir hier gerade bei einer Kirche sind; bei Gott; ich hasse diese verschießenen Touristen Ärsche, wie die Pest. Können die nicht alle später hier aufkreuzen. Oder nach Hause fahren, wo sie niemanden, vor allem mich nicht, mit ihren verkorksten Existenzen belästigen.Man, ich mein wir sind extra früh losgefahren. Um ja vor den pendelnden Arbeitern in der U-Bahn zu sein, das Sardinen - artige - Gedränge in diesen Blechdosen ist mir, schon lange, ein Grauen..