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Shooting Gallery

January 10, 2007

Behind the plastic was a space looked like it was a rats’ nest. Tables were stacked with full ashtrays, magazines, pillows, crusty candles and bent beer cans. The rug, bunched up and furrowed, had shoes, underwear, and cigarette packs jumbled together in its’ folds. To the side was an folding table, drug shit thrown around on it; half-full glasses of water, little dusty piles of stuff, straws and an old mirror with filthy finger smears across the surface.
Slats stood in front of an old dresser flipping the roll of bills.
” Catch”. She tossed the roll at me, the little grin on her mug. I caught it, removed the rubber band and began counting the bills. It was right, vig and all.
“Next payment is due saturday”.
“C’mere Pooch”. She leaned back against the dresser and put her right hand between her legs, rubbing softly where the denim was tightest.
“Hmmm……you gonna give me some….I get paid and I get pussy”?
“The payment was due, the other is my idea. Joe can’t fuck anymore, and I always liked you….Poochie” That grin, half in the middle of her skinny face.
I tell you, I was getting wood looking at her. Go figure. She always did have a thing I liked, and now I was gonna find out how much. I waded over through the rug and shit and she reached out with her left hand, caught my cock soon as I got close enough. Started rubbing it through my gabardines, just like a pro. A lot of those sluts from out the burbs were well versed when I caught up with them. Like the Catholic boys out there were running a school, and the Jewish girls, once they went bad, turned out to be the best pupils.

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