I quickly opened my eyes. My puss was damp, the bus, nearly at the stop. I sure hoped that when I got to Miss Hanscomb's, I didn't smell like an after...oon at the used cunt club.Of course, I guess you knew that Miss Hanscomb was kinky. The mob guys killed my friend Al, and they killed her, too. After she and Al Lombardi died, they went into her house. Oh my god. It was all in the newspaper, but, of course, they left a lot out of the paper, because there were plenty of well known and famous. There was never any guarantee that she would be there: or even what he would see if she was; but like all compulsions, the urge was too strong for him, and he had to see.It had started about three weeks earlier: he had been on his way home and he'd really needed to pee, so he had ducked into the garden where he would be sheltered from the road by the high hedge. Having emptied his bladder, he looked around the place. It was a big house: five or six bedrooms, maybe. He looked towards the front. More

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