“It’s a smoking oven in here, isn’t it? Can someone get a window open?” quizzed a random rider. “I said no. Listen, you couldn’t do it if ...ou wanted to,” I challenged. “Oh never tell me what I can’t do, pretty lady.” “We’re smashed together like chronic in a doobie.” “Well I’m about to light it up.” “Damn.” “Potty mouth. If you’re game say yes.” “No, the windows are sealed shut. But we can try to open a door,” answered a sitting subway sufferer. He seemed determined to get my consent. Had he. Wife knew this and she added an additional rule that I am not to bring a hooker to our home. I was good with that. I would find, pay for and enjoy the pleasures of a hooker about every other week. I loved fucking hookers because they will do things, for money, that most women would never do. I would usually find hookers I had sex with before because they knew what I wanted and liked and I knew what they liked to do. One day none of my usual hookers were available. None of them were on the. More

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