Whatever the object was that she held up, disappeared into a bag and they moved to the back room.“Now what the fuck do I do?” Bobby asked of himse...f. He had been prepared only to apply pressure on young Tara to get in her pants and/or discover what the string of balls was.In the event the blonde had command of the situation. In back of the shop, out of the glare of the morning sun Bobby was able once again to appreciate her beauty, her form, her sensuality. This morning she wore little make-up. The air was thick with smoke and the throbbing bass guitar, as the crack head guitarist tried to make his melodies worth the applause from the drunk over in the far corner. It was time I made my move.Sliding into the chair next to her, I crooned my previously rehearsed love songs, keying on the phrases that made her gaze lighten until she began to open her beleaguered soul to my feigned interest. Giggling and gurgling she mourned of lost loves and spent hopes, wondering if she could ever really. More

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