I worked with that buttried to keep my head clear. Too often I lost who I really was and wokeup, disgusted in soiled sheets.There was one guy who was ...rdering between rounds. One with the boys,one by himself only. A shot and a beer drinker. Should be pretty loadedin an hour. I writhed against the pole, caught my tits and wrapped themaround the metal, made the nipples touch. Always a crowd pleaser. I hadhis attention. I ran a finger inside my crotch strip.A flick of the wrist, just a slight. ”“Why’s that?” Paul asked with curiosity.“Cause you spend the whole day wallowing in the dust of a thousand cattle and, let me tell you, they kick up a ton of fucking dirt. How fun does that sound?”“Not very,” Paul agreed.“Damn right,” Frankie said with contempt. “Buck sends us back there just for his own shits and giggles. He can be a real sorry son of a bitch by times. If he sends you back there just tell him to fuck off.”“But someone has to do it don’t they?” Paul asked the obvious.“Well. More

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