Then he picked up the magazine again to show me pictures of a couple fucking and pointed out how happy they look. I was scared but his hand felt goo.... He told me to lean my head back and close my eyes. I stared at him until he lifted his hand gave my little pussy a hard smack. It hurt and it made me cry. He slapped me again. My pussy was stinging. I did as he said. He began to slowly and gently rub my pussy and clit, while reminding me to keep my eyes closed. I was getting wetter. I was white hot angry. He had agreed to come single-o. He’d lied to me. Well, and why not, lying came easy for the two of them.I waited to see if he would notice me, potted plant or no. He did not; they did not. They took a booth on the same side of the room that I was at, but half a dozen feet to my front and across the aisle from the main bar. They were talking. I saw her look around, for me I supposed; she didn’t notice me, not yet: a break for me. She looked—pissed. I had to wonder at. More

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