Dancing with Valentino

He didn’t bother to sit right back down, instead he begins pacing back and forth, kicking the bottles and ash trays out of his path. He’s not saying anything and I’m getting worried.   I’m thinking now is the time to leave.   Just as I start to stand he reaches over and pushes me back to the chair.

“Get the hands off me I’m leaving, ” I said. I try to stand.

“You can’t leave, ” he shouts, and grabs my arms and jerks me from the chair. I’m trying to wrestle my way to avoid it of his grasp, but he holds me tighter.

“Let me go, ” I scream in his face.   “The neighbors can hear us and they’ll call the cops. ”  I begin to panic, “Joe will be home soon I remind Aser, he’ll wonder where I am. ”

“Joe doesn’t care, he calls you a whore, ” blurts Aser.   “Lots of men pay to sleep with you. Why do you consider Joe explained about you?   Why do you think he took me to your apartment?   Why you think I brought you here?   To see you tango? ”   It's his turn to laugh; I guess he does have a feeling of humor.

I’m not shocked with what he says, I’m mad!   Mad at Joe for thinking he can generate income as a pimp and mad at Aser for thinking I’m an easy lay.   The anger keeps building until I’m burning.

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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)