"You must have a cast-iron stomach." I rode around with you for four years," Jan said, laughing and then sucking the wing sauce off her fingers one at...a time. "Think of some of the crap we've put into our bodies during that time." True," Bryant admitted."And I'm not the greatest cook in the world," Jan confessed."True," Bryant repeated."Hey!" Jan said."You brought in some of that jambalaya you made," he said. "That was pretty bad." I thought you liked it?" Jan said, with a frown."The first. It hadn’t been for hours, and not for days. I lit a cigarette and watched the smoke escape from the cracked window. The smell lingered in the air and the taste coated my mouth. And for that moment my mind went counterclockwise. Almost like a silent movie, I watched it. My face and my breasts being pressed firmly against the wall. Feeling like I too may become part of the paint. But loving every fucking second of it. My pussy getting so damn wet when he snatched me by my hair and pressed my ass. More

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