It must have felt somewhat orphaned as of late. Why isn't she visited more often? What did I do wrong? Silly thoughts swirl round in my head now as I ...nsert more fingers. When my husnad gets up out of bed and heads towards the direction of the bathroom I seize the opportunity to let out a few little sighs and pump my hips into my buried fingers. I wish the walls were thin enough for me to hear their mingled moans. "Oh, shit," I cry out softly as my orgasm comes racing up like wellspring burst. Carlos had come this far north in search of the one female champion, the ultimate kill, but another was closer. It was worth it to travel through the fallout zones. The blood sacrifices kept him healthy and free of radiation poisoning. The same could not be said his kills and he’d taken dozens to pay his fare to the north. Now with one innocent and clean death he was charged with power. The next would make him a demi-god. Killing men wasn’t as good, but the thought of this one and the power. The shelf was splattered with bird shit. An old torn mattress lay on the shelf with a ratty sleeping bag piled at its foot. The rush of traffic, the smell of diesel exhaust and oil, mixed with his headache, gave everything he saw an unreal tint.The brambles below the shelf were thick with discarded beer cans. He worked his way awkwardly the rest of the way down to the stream. It all looked familiar from when he'd approached in the canoe, in the dimness under the bridge he recognized where he'd. "I told Rosita how I cried for an hour after you said you would come back to me." Her breath tickled my ear as she whispered. "I told her about coming home that night and finding you here in the bed. We cried some more and I told her that was the moment when I decided I would get myself out of the business."This was news to me. I had not known she was planning to stop whoring until Mr. Waite installed Bea Cummings as the madam and promoted Laura to her new position. She didn't seem to notice.