) I looked her over as she stood in line and she looked me over where I sat with a mischievous smile on her full lips. Then I looked at the way she mo...ed her hips as she sauntered to a table close at hand. Her? Our? Story in poetical prose of rhythmic stanzas that will curl a girl’s toes. No rings she donned, “I’m a free woman” her song, As she crossed her long shapely legs, And looked at me impishly one table away, I safely went back to my book and read. I felt young eyes staring at me, With. Yet the bottom line, if I crossed this line, I knew it was so far below my station in life? Actually doing this, and I knew full well what I was doing, I was becoming a whore, a fucking tramp, and … I was loving it! In the end, was I doing this to save John? No! Emphatically no! My animal lust had taken hold of me and I wanted to be a whore! I wanted to have my body ravaged by this stranger, but in reality, I couldn’t wait for the next man to dominate and abuse my body. After all, I am a whore. More

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