“You really have to work on this,” she said, scolding me like a petulant child.“Fuck it,” I replied through the voice synthesizer. I opened th... door and quickly left before she could figure out that I wasn’t who she thought I was.I made my way back to the street where I lived and quickly cleaned up in the guest bath before heading off to bed.It would be a few weeks before I would see them again, walking the neighborhood. I retreated into the house and grabbed my voice synthesizer. I caught them. She was a teetotaler now and wagged her pretty finger at the drunks down at the crossroads trying to forget how she was in their place for longer than she wanted to remember. I also remembered how “loose” it made her when she was feeling no pain and the way she would rub her heels in men’s backsides when they were giving it to her hard and heavy. I had dreamed of doing it just like that with some of the young boys in church but I knew in my mind that I didn’t have the nerve and I wasn’t about. Rumpled clothing, the kind that one bought in the attempt to feign wealth, in cut that nearly draped beautifully, save for the cheap cloth and subtle imperfection, clung in silent witness to the sleepless night. The nearly exquisite exterior that covered up the slowly decaying innards, cloyingly sweet perfume that nearly covered the reek of moldering life and hope, she was rotting from the inside out.She might have been different, perhaps the softly rounded mother with a slightly frazzled air. Frank moved up beside her and kissed her breasts, then gently bit each nipple in turn, tweaking, twisting and pulling them hard, causing her to flinch with the mild but pleasurable pain.Suddenly she felt an ice cube rubbing against one of her already erect nipples making it stand up even harder. Then of course the ice cube was applied to her other nipple, but she was startled when she felt it tickling her under her exposed armpits. It was a strange sensation.More ice was applied to her belly.