Sarah was beginning to lose track of everything that was happening to her. She felt her scalp being tugged roughly each time he wanted her to take his cock deeper in her mouth. Rufus was all over her backside sniffing something he found interesting. She tried to push Mr. Reynolds hand away from going down her pants but she was futile in her half ass attempt to discourage him. Sarah felt his palm brush over her clit sending a little electric shock down her body. She could feel herself getting wet between her legs all over again but this time it wasn’t piss. She wouldn’t ever admit it but it felt good. She kept sucking his dick through the whole thing. A minute later the old man had become bored of touching her lady parts and took his hand out of her vaginal entrance. He gripped her pants near the small of her back and yanked them forcefully down to her knees. Rufus took advantage of the wardrobe change and pressed his snout into her ass crack as he rooted around in search of her. I am in the parking lot across the street from the House of God. Slowly sipping a can of beer. I am not going to get hammered this time. I am not going to lose control of my bodily strength and functions. I am not going to be servicing anybody tonight. I am here for redemption. For answers. To some exceedingly disturbing questions. About me. About what happened to me. For two weeks, I have replayed in my mind, what went down on the night. Okay. Bad choice of words. I mean, what went down, other than me. The four beers in the parking lot. The two beers I brought in. The twenty dollar, no-tip drink at the bar. Things got fuzzy then. A basketball game on a giant television screen. The Lakers and the Clippers. Superman and Steve Nash. Talking to the leather pants fag in the bar. The ugly Pit Bull Man dragging the towel man with the stupid name away, at the end of a dog leash. Too unbelievable. Me, back in the small mirror room. Where the memory thing got fuzzy. Me in the mirror room.
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