One of the men flipped the mattress over and Kevin pushed me toward it. “Get on your back, slut.” he told me. “I want to see if you and Tyrone ...an finish what you was doin’ in the car.” Before I even got on the mattress the stink hit me. It smelled like it had been pissed on and left in the sun to ferment. I felt like such a slut lying on my back with my legs spread wide while the men looked on. Tyrone got on his knees between my legs and started working his fingers into my pussy again. He. No one knew where they came from or much about them. They were nice people. My name is Robert Christmas, everyone calls me Sarge. I am 46 years old and never found the right woman to marry. I don’t know why, a customer started to call me Sarge one evening and it stuck, sort of. I run a little watering hole called The Silver Dollar Saloon, I inherited it when my folks died in a car crash. We sell good food and strong drink for a responsible price. We have a regular crowd that drops in as they. More

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