“Honey that's enough. They were doing their jobs. I told you I didn't enjoy it.”
She pulled away from him, brushing curly strands of disarrayed hair from her eyes and face. “You liked that fake red-haired hussy well enough. Her stench was deeply embedded in the weave of your boxers as if she'd been burrowing into your lap trying to take root. Through the thick fabric of your jeans, those witches were able to put their stamp on you. I'm surprised pink thong's acidic cunt juice didn't sear your privates off.” Glaring around him Carolina spied the dyed-haired tart and lunged in her direction.
Dylan blocked her path, kept stepping in the way as she tried passing him to reach her target, until she, huffing and puffing, ceased her pursuit of the dancer. “I need you to calm down and consider what you've done. You have children to care for. They're important, not what went on here.”
“Ah-ha, you admit something did go on.” Standing so close to him, her nose was assaulted again by the smell of those women on his person. The putrid odor of month old garlicky sardine oil sprinkled mackerel left out in the blazing sun filled her nostrils and she realized he'd dressed in the same jeans he'd had on earlier. Her hands moved with speed and precision, quick, agile fingers reaching in and searching his front pockets. She excavated a folded napkin with a name and phone number scrawled upon it in bold handwriting accompanied by a pink lipstick kiss. Carolina waved the napkin in his face before she tore it
She pulled away from him, brushing curly strands of disarrayed hair from her eyes and face. “You liked that fake red-haired hussy well enough. Her stench was deeply embedded in the weave of your boxers as if she'd been burrowing into your lap trying to take root. Through the thick fabric of your jeans, those witches were able to put their stamp on you. I'm surprised pink thong's acidic cunt juice didn't sear your privates off.” Glaring around him Carolina spied the dyed-haired tart and lunged in her direction.
Dylan blocked her path, kept stepping in the way as she tried passing him to reach her target, until she, huffing and puffing, ceased her pursuit of the dancer. “I need you to calm down and consider what you've done. You have children to care for. They're important, not what went on here.”
“Ah-ha, you admit something did go on.” Standing so close to him, her nose was assaulted again by the smell of those women on his person. The putrid odor of month old garlicky sardine oil sprinkled mackerel left out in the blazing sun filled her nostrils and she realized he'd dressed in the same jeans he'd had on earlier. Her hands moved with speed and precision, quick, agile fingers reaching in and searching his front pockets. She excavated a folded napkin with a name and phone number scrawled upon it in bold handwriting accompanied by a pink lipstick kiss. Carolina waved the napkin in his face before she tore it