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I like sausage. I sell hot dogs. Creamy. He was here, lining up. Transparent. Middle-aged man with no taste. Ghost in old school pants.
The forbidden fruit. The hole that decent girls won’t take a cock inside. But me? For twenty bucks, any man can bury his tool inside me for ten minutes.
Me? A Queen? My blowjob punters visited almost an hour apart, and at twenty bucks a shot, a three-hour shift would barely pay my room rent.
I am depraved and on the down low. When I lose control a terrifying, libertine alter ego, visits me, forcing me to suck cocks at a gloryhole.
Bianca gripped my arm tightly as we walked past the burly, handsome, yet mildly curmudgeonly cop guarding the entrance to Debauchery Square.
I write and draw with a ballpoint pen. All is a fiction, sometimes not. It’s about domination, and humiliation. About orgasm, denial also.
Who raped Erin?
We hunt pleasure. We catch pain. With Kate Granger.
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