Turn halfway around.” She did, and he stared at her fine ass, his mouth watering. He remembered the taste of her. Suddenly, it seemed within reach, ...gain.“Stormi. Bend over.” There was some slight hesitation, there. He figured that her subconscious was fighting with her conscious, or something. He didn’t care, as long as she did it. And, she did it. She bent at the waist, spreading her ass cheeks slightly.“Spread your ass with your hands.” He said. She didn’t move. He repeated the command,. He thought furiously. Could he really get work at the opera house? Could he still work as a carpenter, did he still have the eye and the hand of a craftsman?For ten dollars he could drink himself into oblivion for a straight week. He could drink enough to end it all. Yet, he felt an obligation. Even for a rich man such as Caruso giving away a gold eagle was a grand gesture. The famous singer expected Max to right his life using that gift. Could he disappoint the great man?Two hours later it was. More

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