“What’s wrong with him?”She smiled at me. “Nothing. Well, nothing that I haven’t stuck into him. I guess maybe there’s plenty wrong with h...m, if you think about it like that. . . .”The guy looked confused. “Look, is he into this or not?” I could tell he was losing his arousal.“He’s into it,” she said. She stared straight at me. “Baby. Strip.”My shoes came off first. Then my socks. Then slacks, and underwear, and finally shirt. I was still a dopey, happy waiter, but now I was a naked, dopey,. As she read that, she could picture him smiling. Then he added: 'I know a guy up there' (meaning New York city), he wrote. 'I think you'd like him. If you want, I can give you his number? I've told him about you. Hope you don't mind! He's a good guy. He's got a big black cock! I know you'd like that!' She could see him typing that last comment with a smile on his face. I am a whore, Cindy thought, but she didn't care. Not really. After all, now that she'd experienced what a real man, a black. More

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