“You're not getting anything from me bitch! Free pussy, my ass. You've cost me more than most of the girlfriends I've had, needing me to give you everything. I can't even sell you to make up the rest of my debt. Now they're gonna knee-cap my ass.” A resounding smack followed the vehement statement and Blake spun to see the man at the next table lowering his hand. A red hand-print was blooming on the face of the brunette sitting at the table with him. As Blake looked, she removed her gaze from the man's face and cast it downward towards the floor. No-one else in the food court appeared to notice, or maybe they just didn't care, that the man had struck her. As Blake watched, the man raised his hand in a closed fist to just below the level of the table and appeared to get ready to strike the girl again, this time in her stomach. Blake reached over, stretching slightly to reach the man's elbow. As he grasped the joint, he squeezed it firmly enough to hurt: “I don't think you want to be doing that.
What do You think about His Belonging - An Erotic Tale?
