When he spoke again, it was so quietly that Calix almost couldn't hear him. "What if they're wrong?"Cal snorted. "They aren't. You know it. I know it....I mean, look around you. How many pick-ups have there been here? I mean in Southwest Detroit? Huh? How many? We both know. Not a fucking one. Oh, they take them infrequently from downtown and there've been quite a few in the suburbs – but not a fucking one in Southwest Detroit. We're the ghetto, man. Nobody cares about us. Oh, sure, there's a. .. sexy in my shirt." I smirked and purred, "Good. You look tired; it's your day off, you need a nice relaxing treat." He smiled coyly and replied, "What did you have in mind?" I walked over to him and threw the controller and Pringles away. I sat facing him on his lap; I lifted his hand and sucked the salt and vinegar flavour off his fingers in a very suggestive manor. I couldn't help but notice a tent forming in his baggy boxer shorts; I looked into his eyes seductively and said, "Do you. More

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