This large, stout, African American woman liked the girls in her charge and they came to adore the no-nonsense former prostitute.And that’s one attr...bute she shared with Sister Mary, a straight-ahead, no time for crap, approach to running the shelter.It was a Wednesday evening, around 9. I’d taken Lyft to the shelter, knowing I’d have a couple of brews with Gloria. She kept the door to her living quarters open and we could hear the girls. Gossiping, laughing, arguing, bitching.My heart went out. But then, in that moment, as I stared into Ashleigh's eyes and kissed her sweet soft lips, I couldn't help but say it. “Ashleigh, baby, you're Daddy's little princess now. Mine. Got it? I want you to fucking scream it. I want everyone to hear you. SCREAM IT!” I felt myself growing thicker and harder with each and every stroke and as I built up, she tightened around me, as if she felt exactly what I was feeling. “I'm Daddy's little princess,” she whispered under her breathe between long, deep. Yes, one man informally called the Godfather.I heard the roar of the engine and looked through the front plate glass window. I saw it approaching. A massive red and chrome beast with brown leather saddlebags. The gorgeous Indian cruiser bike stopped in front of my store and the enormous engine went silent. Yes, my store, Sonny’s South of the Bridge Spirits. I have, or rather had, the largest liquor, beer and wine store on both sides of the bridge. I watched as she parked the bike and crawled. "She warmed a little and smiled at the memory of our dress boutique exploits."And the day started with breakfast in bed," I said."Well," she said with a smile, "it didn't start with breakfast in bed. But we got to it eventually." Mmm hmm," I said, nodding. "Are you having a good time?"She looked at me seriously and then nodded."So," I asked, "do you trust me to plan something you'll enjoy?"She reluctantly smiled. "Yes, I guess I do. I just don't like not knowing what we're doing next."You don't.