Or rather, I would have coffee. Kayla always drank herbal tea. I teased her about this, told her she was "putting on airs." She just laughed. When we were in class, the other students treated us as though we were a couple. I'm sure most of them thought that we were. Yet, we were not. It was only a friendship. This all took place in the fall, and that is one of the things I remember about that time--going about my business, walking outside and feeling the air grow chilly and the skies turn grey on many days. Other days the sun would be bright and the sky a faded blue, thin sunshine warming you through your jacket.I started thinking something strange about Kayla. I didn't fantasize about us as boyfriend and girlfriend, although she was certainly beautiful. It occurred to me that she would make a perfect mother for someone. I hated my own mother with a passion. She was bright, too--like Kayla. But where Kayla was open-minded and sought to be fair to everyone's different points of view,. The Madame was expecting him.It was a ritual for him to be there at twelve midnight or thereabouts on a Wednesday night. They had a deal going on between the both of them.He would keep the troopers off her back with his money and influence if she would save for him the newest and freshest pieces of meat she came upon.It was rare when the Madame added a new piece of fluff to her stable of hardened whores, and when that happened, Felton had to settle for old cunt.The whorehouse outside of town was the perfect place to assure him privacy. There, he could experience all his perverted desires without the word getting around.Socially, Felton knew scores of women. They were beautiful and submissive. Yet he had to restrain himself sexually. They were willing to fuck but that's it.At the whorehouse he could do anything he wanted. He could rape to his heart's content. He could beat as many women as he wanted. There, his word was law.He could act like the lowest beast in creation and not have.
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