The place was as dark and squalid inside as it appeared from the outside and she felt the eyes of the few faceless, seedy, patrons linger over her bod... as she was led to a booth in the back of the bar. Back here it was even darker, the only light emitting from a feeble, fly-specked red bulb hanging over a door that had a wooden sign, 'His,' hanging from it at a drunken angle. She was pushed down onto the bench of the back corner booth facing the barroom, hemmed in by a wall behind her and. He did, did he? She really was feeling it now. He was blind if he couldn’t see how hot and sexy she was feeling. Surely it had to be evident in the photographs he was taking? ‘Think sex. Think fucking. Make me want you.’ She snorted. What the hell did he imagine she was thinking of? Make him want her, huh? He’d end up wanting her alright. She threw her head back, both hands in her heightened dark hair, her body swaying infront of him seductively like a stripper. Mouth half-open, she ran her. More

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