Since his visit to the bar earlier that day, he knew the carnival would be unlike no other, and he was right. But, indulging his eyes on the lascivious circus acts made his dick hungry for some action. Sipping on his beer, his eyes beamed at the sight of a familiar figure just a few feet away. When she was on the move, he followed her. Harold hadn’t expect to see her around; she seemed to insist that she had to go home. Granted, he felt sorry for the girl. Her mother died just a few months ago; now she had to take care of that dress shop all by herself. Nonetheless, he liked her. And wanted her, no matter how hard she rejected his advances. Harold watched her buy a strip of tickets. She looked back over her shoulder, as if trying to find someone. Once her purchase was complete, she got in line for the Funhouse. It was a wide, three-storied trailer with several balconies on each floor, where patrons often stood and waved at the onlookers below. The building was painted with a cartoonish mural of what was in store inside, walls that reached for unsuspecting patrons, warped mirrors, and the like.
