Dancing with Valentino

“I paid $10 dollars for a fuck and I’m getting one, ” he whispers in my own ear.

Sobriety kicks in, and I’m fighting for my life.   Aser is on top of me pulling at my clothes. I’m pushing and screaming, but he shoves a scarf within my mouth and holds my arms down.   He winds a handkerchief around my neck and I will feel it getting tighter and tighter.   The last thought I have is hearing a tango blaring from the air and I am dancing with Valentino.





I’m 72 and this is one of many stories I have written.   I write because I enjoy it.

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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. :)