Ok. Who am I k**ding. Something was there. I looked at my hand thinking how it felt wrapping my hand around that piece of flesh and feeling the blood ...low through the veins, watching it expand and seeing the crown getting ever bigger. Oh how I'd have loved to get on my knees and experience the feeling of my first cock sliding into my mouth and letting it force its way into my throat. I was in a day dream when I realised I was back outside the cafe/bar and checking my watch realised I still had. I'd forgotten all about it! Then I remembered exactly why. It wasn't in the wash because I hadn't worn it. I hadn't worn it because it'd been washed too many times.Not until I had it out of the closet and held out in my hands to give to Mom did I remember the whole story. The damn thing had seen the inside of a hot dryer too many times. The only reason I hadn't thrown in away was that it had once been my favorite flannel shirt. It still was, in a technical sense. However faded, the charcoal. She called over the pimp, who collected the money from the clients. Climbing into the back seat of the car, she assessed her clients.They were big, powerful men. Their skins were blue black, and some of them had what appeared to be tribal scars on their faces. They joked among themselves about the white bitch they had got for a bargain price. Arriving at a cheap hotel, they hired a room for the night.Tanja took in her new 'owners!' They really were huge! Tall, muscular men! Fear raced through. I jumped it through a few seconds later."Give me a week." Con said. "We'll have the structure by then, and the basic equipment and features. Should I leave the decorating as a group effort?" Yes, absolutely, and no furniture. We don't want to deprive anyone with the shopping bug from getting their fix." Fine, but I'm picking the counter tops and tile!" Con laughed back.I laughed with him, waved goodbye and jumped myself into Level One back at the house. It was 1:00 in the morning here and I had.