‘Justine?’ David R. watched as Justine approached, caught a glimpse of her cleavage, felt naughty thoughts as she adjusted the mask over his nose....‘Anything else you need to say before lights out?’ David R. smiled, shook his head. Mr Tilley chuckled. ‘Okay, then, you’ll be feeling on top of the world in a minute. Justine.’ Justine stood, dispassionately, at the foot of the chair, and slowly turned the wheel of the gas cylinder. Hissssss… Is this what the perverts pay for? David R. asked. Finally, disgusted—what the hell was Estrada waiting for?—I stopped for lunch. I ordered a club sandwich but could eat only half of it. I had no appetite, and no patience for just sitting and eating. Usually I'd have told them to box up the rest and taken it home for later, but when the waitress asked I just shook my head. I gave her my credit card, signed the chit and went back to the street. I hoped my body language was conveying what I felt: "Hey, take me, take me, I'm available and. More

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