I could wash the flour down the sink, and then it would be gone.But he was so weak. He didn't know how he'd be able to get his shaky legs to walk that far, and then lift the bag and tote it to the sink. It seemed like a herculean task.Then he heard the women again, fighting over some donuts. They were cursing and shouting at each other, and their cries sounded like ravenous wolves or hyenas. This is madness, he thought. I can't let this go on, or they'll kill me. It's evil, what's happening out there.He hoisted himself up shakily, and started for the table.The table seemed a mile away, because every step was an effort for Arnie. His legs felt so weak he could barely put any weight on them, and he was so lightheaded he was afraid he'd fall. When he looked down, though, there was his stiff cock waggling like a flagpole in the wind. It was so absurd, so bizarre, he almost burst out laughing. When he heard Julie shrieking with glee at finding some more donuts out front, though, it. If I can’t find what I’m looking for, I use my fingers to find it. Then, I lick my fingers. It’s not good table manners, I know, but it’s very yummy.’ There was a pause. ‘And for dessert?’ Her voice had grown weaker, and Steve realized she had been completely immersed in this game. He tried to imagine what she was doing on the other end of the phone. ‘Dessert? Why, my favorite dessert is that nice sticky, wet juice that comes out of that special place. There is never enough of it, but it is the perfect ending to the perfect dining experience.’ Again, a pause. ‘You bastard!’ she spat in a quiet voice. ‘You did this deliberately, didn’t you? All my toys are in my nightstand. I’m stretched out on the sofa with the phone in one had and a sopping, wet pussy in the other. And I thought you were an innocent. Boy, did you have me fooled.’ ‘Now, now, Ingrid! I didn’t start this,’ he cautioned, still playfully. ‘I just thought if you liked playing these kinds of games, then I’d better.
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