The black man stopped. “You talking to me?”“See any other boy in here?”“You gotta be shitting me. Who the fuck are you calling boy?”One of...the men at the table stood up. “You, nigger.”The black man charged. He leaped over the table with arms extended, crashing into the man like a linebacker tackling a quarterback. The table toppled over. The chair fell to the floor, breaking apart from the weight of the two men. The black man, on top, smashed his fist into the white man’s face. Even from where. She tried different strokes and angles and listened to Sally’s sounds, paying attention to Sally’s feelings, and with kisses, nibbles, and words expressing love and contentment she teased, tickled, and thanked Sally for sharing her vagina that was freely flowing. A rivulet trickled between her buttocks. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Jo repeated in a rhythm set to the tempo of her fucking Sally. Sally was in heaven—a nirvana of no consciousness—a realm of joy and abandon she wanted to stay. More

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