’ Martin said, staring at the Frenchman. ‘He’s a liar, Chantal. He fucks every girl that will let him.’ ‘That’s bullshit!’ ‘Then why d...n’t you tell Chantal where you were two days ago?’ ‘She knows I was here.’ ‘Then why don’t you tell her who you met in the west stairwell.’ Jean-Claude’s face went white and he turned to Chantal, watching the tears fill her eyes. ‘I didn’t meet anyone. I was here to see her.’ ‘He met me, Chantal.’ Katie spoke up, her eyes downcast. ‘I sucked him off in the. In the four months, she had only taken on enough "clients" to meet her financial obligations. Hell! she pouted, turning and smiling at Dell, a lot of girls gave it away free to thirty men and boys--and she had earned almost twenty-five hundred dollars. And some of the older guys--the tender repeaters--had been real fun; they had taught her that sex-play was greater sport than the Super Bowl--and no broken bones. She almost giggled. She had crushed a few sex bones. Except, the memory sometimes. More

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