" She spent their last few minutes together licking off the juices coating his hard staff, washing it down with the last of the wine. Her last words b...fore leaving were, "Thanks for everything, Tim." That evening, Tim's thoughts went back to Lucy. He wanted to avoid meeting her at Skips where he had experienced so much hurt. So Lucy and Tim met at Frankie's Bar and Grill in a nearby suburb. It didn't take long before Lucy lost it and totally fell apart. She cried uncontrollably. Between sobs. Today was the day he’d been preparing for. He looked around the forest again, making sure none of his captors, or a stray hunting party, had followed him or happened upon him by sheer luck. A light wind made the leaves overhead rustle like a soft summer rain. Sunlight filtered down through the leaves upon his long straight black hair. He reached into the hollow of a long dead tree to retrieve the items he’d carefully stowed there over the past weeks. He added a bunch of freshly picked. Tom assumed this was how ad agency business works in New York. The bulldog, who Tom had been formerly introduced to as Miss Isaacs during his tour, came to him later all smiles and handed him an envelop. ‘Here is your cab fare reimbursed plus another hundred in compensation.’ Tom was soon running non-stop, making and delivering coffee. A graphics designer with a ridiculously bushy moustache said, ‘Take this back and fetch another. It has a small spill.’ ‘That’s what the paper napkin is for. 'Yes, you monster. All of you.' She shouted. He said some more Arabic and I could pick out the word 'monster' and the others laughed and nattered too. He said to her next. 'I want you to beg. I want you to beg me, to beg us, not to rape you anymore. You think you can do that? Beg for your cunt?' 'Go to Hell.' She spat out at him. He dropped down and drove his fist into her breast. It nearly knocked her off the chair but he gripped onto her to steady her and signalled.
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