They looked inside the one that had been opened, it was half full of money.Brad said "This is what we came for, let's get the hell out of Mexico now."...Brad carried two, Hubs two and Sherry got the last one. At the truck Brad unlatched a catch and what looked like a forty gallon fuel tank hinged down. The top had been cut out and there was enough room for the boxes. Brad packed the money inside and Hubs helped him to raise it to lock it back in place.Crossing back over the border was no. It drips onto my breast, and a rivulet of water runs down from my dampened nipple to my belly. I feel its precise path tracing across my skin. It's a loss when your touch ceases. I hear you walking to the back of the room. I need you to be there. We'd long talked of you taking a whip to my naked flesh. I'd become obsessed. I'd devoured de Sade, Sacher-Mashoch, the Story of O. We'd discussed it often, when dressed in the lives we showed to outsiders: the Starbucks-domestic world which for want. More

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