S. on the wall. I loved maps. It had little red dots showing where all the Greyhound bus stations were. I was trying to count them when a commotion st...rted behind me. "God dammit! You trying to rob me?" A big old guy hollered at the clerk behind the counter. He was wearing one of those wife-beater T-shirts; it was filthy, his gut protruding comically between the mismatched suspenders holding up his cut-off jeans. He was unshaven, and I swore I could smell his body odor over the fumes of the six. Before I left the next morning, I made certain I had Nancy grab her ankles and take it all the way up singing a tune of surrender as I gave it to her standing up outside the pantry door.It was beginning to look like I had lost control over my cousin Nancy and I turned my full attention to finding suitable employment and screwing my newest girl’s mother from hell, the Italian widow lady with a little moustache and the most beautiful ass I had seen in quite some time.I would have to admit that I. More

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