The city let out its breath.***Her fingertips, cool on the slick leather. Her ownjacket fell open between them, her naked nipples teasedmaddeningly by...the rough rivets, the stitching of hiscolors, the chrome chains draped across his back. Hernipples ached. Her breasts, surprisingly small andsoft… almost a little girl’s tits… except for thoselong, thin, protruding nipples. She pressed herself tohim, sinuously rubbing, insistent and demanding. From the hard bony knobs of her. I will inspire you and pleasure you, and, in return, you will write poems for me. Doesn't that sound delightful?'Panic seizes him, and fear freezes him in his seat. He can neither breathe nor speak, but his mind is racing. A poem for a fuck is one thing, but a lifetime of poems? That sounds too much like slavery. She glances at him and frowns. 'Are you all right?''You are a fucking vampire!'She snorts in derision. 'You're afraid I'm going to offer poetic inspiration in return for your love and. More

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