The lady who lived there obviously had a green thumb. I admired the garden so much, I spent several days in that town, just so I could walk by every m...rning to have a look. It was on one of these mornings when I realized I had fallen behind on my monthly quota of evil deeds. With the homes spaced so far apart and no one in sight, I began to panic. That's when I heard a door open and saw the owner come out of her house. I tried to think of an evil deed I could make her do, but before I could,. He started to move his fingers around in me faster and faster and I felt myself getting wetter and wetter. I was aching for his touch more and more so I pushed his hand away. “We can’t do this here” I said, looking at him angrily. “Why?” he said, “Because it’s not the done thing” I replied, pushing his hand away even further. He looked slightly annoyed then licked his fingers, tasting my juices on them. I told him he was gross and watched the movie. I still couldn’t stop thinking about it. My pulse quickens as I approach the thing. It's a sculpture. A huge, phallic sculpture, in smooth honey-coloured marble. There's a low plinth, supporting two testicles, the size of basketballs, and, rising up behind them, a beautiful, erect penis. The detail is amazing! The thick veins twining up it, the folds of foreskin around the neck, the smooth dome of its helmet. In a sort of trance, I am drawn to it, closer and closer, until my face is inches away, my arms encircling the thick shaft. I. Sometimes it means you know, but you can’t beef up security, or you will tip my hand, and things can go south. I suppose that means I should be a bit more open with you.”“I would appreciate that. You know we have our private meetings for a reason.”“You’re right. I know you have been good with any skirting of the law that I have done so far, but I didn’t want to get you involved with somebody like Ted.”“It is my job to get my hands dirty. Let me decide if I am willing or not.”“Deal. Now, what.