“Seriously?” the guy in charge asked. I was used to strange men touching me at the booth. The only difference here was that there wasn’t a wall ...etween us.“Knock yourselves out. I feel bad I got some of you worked up, it’s my olive branch.” They exchanged nervous glances again. “Hurry up before I change my mind,” I added. The guy closest to me, who I called out for having an erection, stepped forward. I put my hands on my hips and arched my back a little, pushing my chest toward him. He looked. Who am I to argue with a beautiful woman who knows what she wants. So how long have you planned on taking me home? I was talking to Amber. You remember Amber don’t you? The royal dyke bitch that thinks she’s gods gift to, well, everyone? She told me; actually, anyone that will listen. And with a chuckle, she quotes. That Marcose- Marmaduke-Morton asshole raped me. I won’t deny it. That was six weeks ago. And the accusation was not that far off. Sighing, I looked her in the pool of ice like. More

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