Before the cloud of their arrival had settled, they had booked a room in the town's inn, one of those nameless, authentic places in a town too small f...r tourists, where only travellers ever reach. Kerouac and Casaday had stayed in this town, in the pages of _On the Road_, or at least a town like this. Tangier in the '40's had places like this... **** Kiki, the small c***d of the family who owned the hotel, brought them a bottle of Mezcal, cooled by an. The food was excellent, made even better by my company, and we declined dessert. Arm in arm, I led her back to our room. No sooner were we through the door than she was all over me.Melanie's touch seemed desperate. A trail of clothes littered the floor to the bedroom.I pushed her up against the door frame. Our tongues dueled. I pressed my body against hers. I felt those glorious little breasts against my chest.Her hands ran through my hair. I cupped her face and looked into her eyes. She stared. More

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