I’m about to light up.”“I don’t mind a bit. I used to be a pack-a-day guy myself, so the smell kinda brings back fond memories. And I’d ra...her sit here in the shade, than bake in the sun. By the way, my name is Adam.”“Hi. I’m Carla. You look familiar. Don’t I know you from somewhere?”“I think our offices might be on the same floor. Twentieth floor, isn’t it?”“Ah yes. That must be it. I knew I saw you before.”We chatted very comfortably for a few minutes. Seeing her up-close for the. She felt a momentary, savage joy when the young punk’s nose erupted a geyser of blood. She had never been able to do what she felt was enough to help Jack. No one in town really could. Jack’s mom didn’t abuse Jack. She was just guilty of not really taking care of him as good as she should have, could have. She fed him and clothed him and she had kept him going to school until he got to old to go anymore. She probably even loved him as much as she was capable of. But she had her booze and her. The sly, the sassy, the vivacious. The flirtatious, the coyly cute, the pushily provocative. The sleekly elegant and the in-your-face sexy. And of that lot, Christ he wants to fuck every damn one. Wants to shaft each of them shitless.Don’t ask how he got here, this isn’t a fucking biography. Suffice to say that an advanced sense of kink and a deep sense of morality can end up as unhappy roommates within the same human being. Check out that quotation at the start–it ain’t lyin’.Nor, let it be. Our eyes would meet again when you walked to your table on the other side of the small café and just watching the way your hips swayed, how tight your jeans were on your crotch and ass, the way your tits jiggled slightly, your nipples poking your shirt letting me know you wore no bra. Our eyes met again and the slight smile on your lips when you looked away made me know you liked the way I looked at you. When you took the book you were reading from your backpack, you glanced up at me again, our.