Change the plot, change the characters, change the setting, yet the end result felt like the same story.The Taxman Comes was an experiment of sorts; t... see if writing graphic sex would break me from the cycle. It was a debaucherous story filled with raunch and filth. A story Reesa was waiting for me to read… out loud.The subject matter tore through my mind and a bit more vacillation injected its way in. But, she did transcribe it. She had to know what she was in for. I looked at her, softened. An almost new white BMW rolled into the carpark, my first thoughts were shit, its the police, but the car parked a couple of spaces away and I could see a man and a woman in the car, he was mid 40's she was a little younger, and very hot.I sat there wondering what to do when her head disappeared into his lap, I knew that something was happening, hurray, result!I could see her head bopping up and down and a began to stroke my big hard cock again. The lady lifted from his lap and began to look. On the first of every month, he placed the bills on the left side of the table. The bills went on the left and the cash, (his check from the Park District,) went on the right side of the table. She remembered the flickering light bulb in the living room. It worked when it wanted to. It always irritated her father’s eyes. ‘God damn it,’ he would sigh, filling every envelope with cash. The next day, each wad of cash was turned into a money order. Every money order was mailed out. Every money. Well, truthfully I knew from the first kiss, that I couldn’t say no to him. I simply didn’t want to.Just one more night, I told myself. I’d force myself to forget all of this afterwards.So I stared boldly back at him as I inclined my head, my lips parting to meet his. Surprisingly he was tentative at first; in spite of his smug exterior he must have been at least partly prepared for me to waltz out of his apartment.Quickly he amped up his passion, however, and we were engaged in the most erotic.