"Oh my, there's something big in there," said Ruthie, finally naked. She held one hand across her chest, easily covering her small breasts, the other ...t the juncture of her legs.Sally got the water started and adjusted the temperature."That's nice and warm. Now get in, both of you."Ruthie stepped in first. Sally pulled down my jockey shorts and slapped my ass. "You know what you're supposed to do, Mr. Marcus." What is he supposed to do?" asked Ruthie, her back to both of us."He's supposed to. I sat with her and her aunt Kathy at the funeral home, watching her trying to keep it together and almost crying myself. It seemed life was always bound and determined to shit into my cornflakes.The funeral director was a huge fat guy named Alfred Barnestead, the complete antithesis of the stereotypical mortician. The only thing typical about him was the black suit he was wearing. He was rosy cheeked and white haired, almost a Santa Claus instead of a dealer in the dead. All he was missing was. More

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