Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
It was at this juncture we saw a white Mercedes coupe with a tan soft top double parked behind the cars at the front of the store, not only blocking them in, but also blocking the thoroughfare. We witnessed this before the door swung closed.
She matched her clothes to her car.
Impressive.
“I’m not sure whether to claim her as goals, or rant on social media about the behavior of the privileged,” Luna declared.
“Goals,” Harlow stated.
“Rant,” Raye said.
“Let’s get this done,” I said.
We moved to the clerk.
“Um…is he okay?” Harlow asked her, jerking her head toward the man among the bongs who still hadn’t moved.
The clerk looked to the man.
She then looked back to Harlow and demanded in a bored tone, “What can I get you?”
Harlow squared her shoulders, psyching herself up.
Ah, there was my girl.
“We need porn,” Harlow announced.
I smiled.
I was so proud.
The clerk made no move and said no words, just stared at Harlow.
Harlow turned to me. “You do this. What do we ask for?”
“What are our choices?” I asked the clerk.
“DVD or print?” she intoned.
“Print,” I said.
“Comics or pictures?” she asked.
“Pictures,” I answered.
“Generic? BDSM? Role-play? And then what type of role-play? Like secretary or school girl? Or school marm or bad bitch boss? Spanking, him or her—?” the clerk recited.
“Spanking,” Luna cut in. “Him by a her.”
“You think?” Raye asked her.
Luna shot her a look.
“I see that,” Raye mumbled.
The clerk meandered to the porn display.
“All you have, uh…in the spanking genre,” Raye called to her. “And throw in something else, just for shits and grins.”
She grabbed five magazines, walked back to us and plopped them on the counter.
She rang us up. We had a five-minute, highly irritating conversation about who was going to pay, seeing as we all knew Arthur would eventually reimburse the expense. I ended this by shouldering them out of the way and handing over some cash. I dropped the change in the tip jar. The clerk stared into the distance, dismissing us.
Luna grabbed the mags and we walked out.
We were in the Sportage, Luna and Raye in the back, Harlow beside me in the front, when Harlow remarked, “I feel like I need a shower.”
“I’m at odds about porn,” Luna put in. “I mean, I think there’s some that’s empowering. It’s consensual. The women do it because they want to. But I also think there’s an element that’s very bad. How do you know which is which?”
“My guess is, that’s why you buy comics,” Raye drawled.
I didn’t bite.
“Well?” Harlow pressed me.
What the hell.
“The dudes have massive cocks, they fuck each other, the positions are wild, it’s not real, so even if it gets rough, which it almost always does, no one gets hurt. Oh, and it’s totally hot,” I said.
“You read gay porn comics?” Luna asked.
“I’ll lend you one. You can thank me later,” I told her.
“You’re on,” Luna said.
The cab lapsed into silence, all of us considering my gay comic porn fetish, I was sure, as we drove the rest of the way to Sun Valley Lodge.
The bad news: Jinx wasn’t on her patch.
The good-ish news: Mr. Shithead was behind the reception desk.
The ish part of that was, when he saw us fold out of the Sportage, even from across the parking lot, we could see him roll his eyes.
He then stood and pretended to shoot himself under his chin. He did a dramatic flourish with his hands behind his head to mimic his brains blowing out and collapsed to the floor.
“He’s upped the ante on drama,” Luna noted.
“I think I might be starting to like him,” Raye replied.
We pushed in.
“Get up, my man,” Luna called, leaning way over the counter to get eyes on the guy still on the floor. “We’re not going away and we bring gifts.”
I peered over too and saw he’d pried one eye open.
“Spank porn,” I supplied, then took the mags from Luna and sifted through them before I added, “And school marm, naughty boy shit.”
He popped up to his feet, saying, “She’s in room twenty-one.”
“Who?” Raye asked.
“You lookin’ for Jinx?” he asked back.
Well then.
Part two of our night was set. We just had to wait until her service was completed.
“Actually, we had some questions,” Raye told him.
He snatched the mags out of my hands, flitted through them, then looked at Raye. “This buys you one question.”
“Oh, please. Five mags, five questions,” Raye bartered.
“Two,” he returned.
“Five.” Raye didn’t back down.
“Three,” he tried.
“Five,” Raye repeated.
“FFS,” I grunted. “Have you heard of the Street Warriors?”
“What?” he asked me.
“Street Warriors,” I reiterated.
“Is that a porn movie?” he asked.
The dude had a one-track mind.
I sighed.
“No. We believe they protect homeless people,” Luna informed him.
“What do I know about homeless people?” he asked, hugging the magazines to his chest protectively, like we’d take them away if he didn’t have anything good to give us.
“So you haven’t heard of them,” Harlow murmured, disheartened.