She pulled and pulled on the skin as the sausages filled and began to imagine herself as a high class escort, accompanying businessmen to posh do's an... giving them what their prim and proper wives wouldn't afterwards.She pictured her fantasy, tall and muscular, a west indian businessman in town for a conference. She would meet him in the bar of his hotel, the Hilton or maybe the Clarendon, he would be a bit nervous but she would put him at his ease while they drank cocktails and she would. When he pulled onto the parking space in front of her house, she was waiting for him, keys in hand. He got out of Bob's truck, and then studied it for a moment while she watched."Is it growing on you after all?" she asked."This thing? Hell, no. Never was a fan of pickup trucks. I'd hate it even if it was brand new and not pushing two hundred thousand miles."He nodded at the two-seat cabin of the pickup."I was just thinking. Bob's going to be in a wheelchair when he gets out, and even if we. More

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