“That’s the deal, my darling. Endure the Devil Dykes all the way to Boston and you prove yourself worthy. You can stay here in my fancy house for free with me forever. We will be mistress and mate and make love every day. Or you can stay there in your boring little mouse-hole until you’re old and gray. We will still be friends, long distance friends, but always our love will be embittered by disappointment and regret.”
“Darling,” Bob paused as he savored this new term of endearment between them. “Darling, you don’t have to sell it. You had me at hello. It’s not exactly manly to admit it, but you know I’d live as your doormat in order to be with you.
“I was freaked out at first, but I’m over it. I will brave the formidable Jeri Stone and a hundred lesbian biker gangs if that’s what it takes to earn a place at your feet. Hell, it may even give me enough material to finally write a book.
“I’m all yours, darling. If you could see the way my prick is poking out of my underwear, you’d know you have nothing to worry about.”
“Is that so? Then jerk yourself off for me! Right now, where I can listen and talk you through it. Masturbate for your mistress, Bobby.”
At last Bob yanked himself off the carousel the pictures of Kim had inspired in him.
He was running with sweat again, his thin cotton gym shorts jutting ridiculously out. Even as he watched, his glans popped free of the waistband, the single eye imploring him.
His terror had receded to a thrilling anxiety. Jeri Stone… Hastily he set the two photos aside, fixed his shorts and refilled the box.
A backpack stood nearby, a small tent cinched to the frame. Bob slipped the pictures into an outer compartment with pens, a pad of paper, a road atlas and his netbook computer. He lugged the last box downstairs, policed up the empty apartment and took the clothes he intended to wear into the bathroom. He had just enough time for a shower – a very cold one – before setting out on his quest.
Aksara