He looked at his black-rimmed fingers and wondered if his hands would ever come clean. Jean had given up on them when she made so little progress with...her scrub brush. Then she had worn him out completely and dropped him into a dreamless sleep, like a pebble falling into a deep, blue lake, sinking and sinking.In the tavern he enjoyed a breakfast of fried ham, raw oysters, hot biscuits, golden honey and brown beer. He gave the innkeeper two shillings and Jean two more, "for the bath" he told her. Ashley didn't answer. The trucker raised his hand and slapped her inner thigh. It made the flesh turn a bright red and Ashley recoiled in pain. "I said, are you ready?" I'm ready," Ashley answered."Ready for what?" the trucked cruelly asked once more."I'm ready to fuck," she boldly answered. "That's not good enough!" he yelled. "Tell me more!" I'm ready for you to fuck me," she answered, unsure of what the trucker really wanted to here."I need more damnit!" "I'm ready for you to fuck me hard,". More

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