"Whoa! What do you mean?"She explained."Carrie, $28,500 doesn't make you rich."She stuck her tongue out at him and grinned. "Spoilsport. As far as thi... bumpkin from Milltown is concerned, I'm rich! I now have the money for my college education, bro."Not quite, he thought. She'll need to pay taxes on 65% of the $90,000 settlement, which will wipe out a good chunk of the cash she's getting, but now isn't the time to take her down. After all she's been through, she deserves some moments of. She would have run out of money on Wednesday, if I hadn't added another two thousand to their checking account. By Thursday afternoon, I was all shopped out. I told my mother that she had bought enough new furniture and other things for the house. She seemed disappointed that her buying spree had ended so soon.I hadn't seen Donna since the Sunday before, although we had spoken on the telephone several times in the evenings. I went over Thursday night to see her, and to make sure that she was. He didn’t seem to want to do that, he just kept his mouth on my wet cock and started moving up and down my shaft. I pulled my meat from him and said, “No, not here. I live right down the street. Why don’tcha come on over?”The guy stood up quickly and put his cock back into his pants.“Sounds great man, I’m ready.” I went to put my own cock away for the short walk home, and realized how wet the front of my pants were. Oh well, I figured that it wouldn’t be the first time the bartender saw a guy. There was a hostel at the end of Dean Street. Un-sponsored men working in the restaurants and bars of Soho and the West End used it. Nobody took much notice of who came and went. Stephen stepped inside. The man behind the desk recognised him and nodded. Nobody asked for names here, that was understood.The lobby was dark. On one wall, a notice board carried a myriad of notices, directives, and posters with various logos of various Government departments. Mostly it was stuff from the Department.