‘There’s an accident every week on this damn street. I swear, I think the neon lights blind the drivers.’ I’m forced to adjust to the uneven ...idewalks, littered with scrapped tabloids and trampled worms. A wall of bright boutiques stretches into an intersection where men wearing helmets ravage the pavement with brutal implements. Deafening typewriter taps and a steady metallic roar fills the air. Grotesque blades slice through layers of roadway, previously traveled on by maintenance. The whorehouse outside of town was the perfect place to assure him privacy. There, he could experience all his perverted desires without the word getting around.Socially, Felton knew scores of women. They were beautiful and submissive. Yet he had to restrain himself sexually. They were willing to fuck but that's it.At the whorehouse he could do anything he wanted. He could rape to his heart's content. He could beat as many women as he wanted. There, his word was law.He could act like the lowest. I just loved those ones with the big leg opening that always allowed me the opportunity when I was in my room alone studying or on the couch under the covers the chance to rub my pussy. At 16 I had started getting more hair to cover my pussy mound and I just loved the softness of it when-ever I touched it. I would feel my juices dripping out of my pussy and soaking the liner of my shorts. That way when-ever I got up from the couch no one was the wiser that I had brought myself to. Connors. I’m trying to get information for one of my clients.” She glanced at my phone and looked around the parking lot. She must have put two and two together fast because she said, “How about I give you a ride anywhere you want and in return, you answer my questions?”I sighed, looked at my phone, and realized that her offer really wasn’t that bad. Besides, what could she possibly ask me that I knew anything about anyway? I looked at her again and said, “Sure, where’s your car?”She didn’t say.