It was almost midnight, and I had to get up for work the next morning. Walking out the door, a hand grabbed me. Her again. She was afraid. She needed ...omeone to take her home. I felt mingled pity and disgust.Pity won. We made our way down Eighty-fourth Street under the harsh orange glare of sodium arc streetlamps. Where did she live? Some town on the Island. Long Island. Where the rich folks lived. What the hell had I gotten myself into?She wasn't a bad looking broad, maybe on the wrong side of. He tensed.“Let me hold it there,” she said. “Rest it there. Just resting.”She wiggled her finger slightly. “That’s not resting,” he said. “Now, gently, squeeze it.”He squeezed, but this time he knew much better where to squeeze. “Yes, Butt Boy,” she said. “Now you’re getting it.”He rocked his butt against her finger.“Yeah,” she whispered. “That’s it.”She eased the one finger in further. First knuckle. Second knuckle. He tensed, then relaxed. Third knuckle. He sighed. She wiggled her finger.“Can. More

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