?Are you sure? You are pretty damn wet!?She looks back at him as he slides another finger into her.?Want to come?? He asks.?Yes.?He slides his hand do...n the inside of her thigh and just above her knee he presses deep with his fingers.She convulses.?No! Don’t.? She giggles and screams.?Please. Stop.? She is spastic, without the muscle control to marshal a decent defense.?I hate it when you tickle me.?He slides his hand between her legs.?Doesn’t feel like hate to me.?He inserts his fingers inside. It was a strange night. A vision of ‘little girl in the dirt,’ came to me, but somehow different. She had a ‘Mona Lisa’ smile on her face. Later the face was Annie’s on the emaciated little girl body. By that time I was half delirious. The next morning, Sunday, the bar didn’t open so I took my time shaving and taking a shower. I noticed Gene had left a stack of used clothes on the table in the storeroom. The clean clothes felt good on my body. I felt a little better, but shaky. I made some. More

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