‘But there’s nothing I love more than cock. Fucking them. Sucking them. Feeling them. Watching them shoot. Oh man.’ In shock, Ellie and I starte... laughing. Dorothy grinned. ‘My husband died three years ago. No, it’s okay,’ she said as our laughter abruptly faltered. ‘He was a good man and after watching what cancer did to his body I’m glad he’s at peace. But in his prime we fucked three or four times a day. Yeah,’ she said, seeing our expressions, ‘I don’t look like I’m hot to trot, do I? But I. It is nice to have sex with boys, and the money is nice. But I feel so empty inside." We're here for you, sister," Dot hugged her lover. "You've been moody and I know it isn't PMS. That place cleaned us out with their bargain basement hysterectomies. We were enslaved for life—no manumission. It was economical for birth control purposes and we never had periods again, so we were able to work 365 days a year. Hank said that we'd have to be male for a while so that we could relate to all of our. More

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