10
Jessie
Two weeks of non-shitty days passed. Two weeks of silence at the hangar and home except when taking a couple tourists out for a joy ride and dropping spring supplies at Callan Kelly’s place, another client north of Brock’s place.
He visited me nightly in my mind, either giving me something to masturbate to, or waking me up horny, aching, and pissed off. My emotion’s focus stayed honed in on the negative, his lack of attention the morning after, rather than the words and touches my body remembered all-too well. The pissiness at him remained, and I clung to it like a stubborn b***h, so I wouldn’t miss him. I kidded myself, though, thoroughly caught up in thoughts about a man I hardly knew.
I blew a steady breath out through my nose and returned to the books old man Foster kept
