.. do you know a Karen Post?” she asked.“I do,” I responded. “What about her?”“She’s trying to find you,” she said. “Do you want to ...e found?”“I am always at home to Karen,” I said. “Of course I want to be found. Why?”I could hear rustling of paper, “She called Pan Am and I took her call. I had to be sure you wanted to talk to her.”“I do.”“307-672-8828.” Rachael said.“That’s home,” I said.“She sounded anxious,” Rachael said.“Probably needs money,” I said. “She wouldn’t have called. We were seated outdoors, having lunch as we waited for one of my regular lovers and customers, John. He was a truck driver that I had been fucking for money for well over a year and I had told him about my daughter, Velvet. He said that he would pay a fortune to fuck a mother and daughter at the same time and since I knew that he was a man with a lot of money to spend, I had told Velvet about my plans to hook up with him when he got into town. I had explained how I had been fucking him in his. More

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