The air was blasting and punishing her breasts, almost ripping out her pubic hair, whistling through her toes. She squinted and tried to look up past...the tears that were unavoidably streaming toward her ears. It looked like fifty feet of ladder or so. It was pretty miserable hanging here naked in the blasting wind. Better climb up and on board. Surely there would be clothes waiting.But . . . there was no one up there beckoning to her. No bullhorn calling down to her, no showing of the. A cup of that coffee, perhaps. Black, no sugar." A coffee pot steamed beside the cash register.We had a very amiable talk while I drank my cup of coffee and he tidied up the bar, sampling a bottle of wine while I writhed in agony. A couple of customers came in and he led them into the dining room. "I'd better be going," I said. "You're getting busy." Not at all," he answered. He turned to another man who had just entered the room and waved an introduction, "Devin, meet Rebecca. Rebecca, this is. More

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