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Nothing felt solid anymore, nothing seemed stable. ‘Who are you?’ she asked, desperate for some point of contact with the man who was saving her f...om…her mind shied away from the concept. ‘Call me Burke,’ he said, heading to a BMW infiniti that was parked across three spaces. He unlocked the doors and ushered her in, then got in himself. ‘We’ll need to make a few stops first.’ ‘My apartment?’ she asked, thinking clothes, checkbook, towel, the stuffed bear she’d had since she was six that was. They were simply out to drink and get laid. The trendy bar they favoured was renowned for being popular with cougars, and being taken home by one of these ladies was a regular occurrence.One of the frequent ‘torments’ I had to endure on Sunday mornings once they returned to college, was to have my head clamped by one or the other before I was compelled to sniff the pussy odour of the women they had fucked the night before. It wasn’t an ordeal for me and a small price to pay for enjoying the. More

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