The towns I passed through were well off the Interstate, slowly dying. The ordinary businesses had been replaced by wistful antique shops, second-hand...junk displayed on the cracked sidewalks. A post-office, a general store, and a gas station were all that really kept most of these towns alive.As I drove, my customary sense of black menace grew on me. The windows of abandoned houses were watching me. Barns held secrets too terrible to be told. The few people out and about in the towns seemed. The bedroom door was partially open, and I positioned myself against the wall, next to the door. By now, Maliga had wiped herself dry. She was sitting before the dressing table (still naked), what a sight. If I were a poet, her lovely juicy buttocks would have inspired me to write poems. She started applying talcum powder to her body, her armpits, her breasts and then her back. I just wanted to barge in there and ask her if she needed any help, but I controlled my emotions and enjoyed the view.. More

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