”He plopped down on the couch, spread his legs and propped his feet on the coffee table in front of him. The fabric of his basketball shorts settled...suggestively into his crotch, revealing a sizeable basket. I already knew what was inside.“I want you to know something, you fucking faggot,” he sneered. “That session in the kitchen meant nothing to me. It was no different than a handjob. I just used you and then tossed your ass out, like the paper towel I used to wipe off my dick, then tossed in. That was one of the worst things I hated about the Detention Center because they didn't allow any lights on after ten o'clock.The downstairs living room was filled with stacks of woman's magazines and golfing magazines that led me to believe the husband was an avid golfer. He had appeared quite fit when they were rushing out of the house to the movie theater. His wife was just the opposite with obvious rolls of fat that had nothing to do with being in a pregnant state. I had almost giggled to. More

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