I went to him and he reached around my waist, pulling my hips toward him. We moved together, our sweat soaking through our clothing. His hands rested ...gainst the small of my back, my ass, my neck. I took in his scent – musky and masculine.As we danced, our movements became more carnal. His hand moved up my back pulling me closer to him. I could feel his hot breath against my neck and his lips at my ear as he whispered, “I want you, stranger.”His words were music to my ears, and our lips met. “It’s late, Cunt.” He answered surprisingly quick, for what I assumed was somebody else’s phone.“Where is it?”“Right where it’s always been, but I’m at a flophouse.” He gave me directions. “Get your ass here before ten. They close up.” He dropped the connection.It wasn’t far. I didn’t know the neighborhood had a flophouse. It wasn’t a charity either. It was a home business on a main drag. “Mulgrew’s Beds for Dollars” In tiny, faded print the window sign added, “Not one bed bug!” I took it to. More

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