..Why wasn’t he cumming yet? Was he doing this on purpose? I glanced up at him. No, he was feeling it. I could tell - his head pressed back against ...he wall, his breath ragged, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the handrail....22… 23...My calves were burning from crouching in heels, so I shifted to my knees. It was more vulnerable, more risky. If the doors opened, I wouldn’t have enough time to get up, but I could concentrate better without the strain on my legs....29… 30…Oh, shit! I was. He knew something was going on – he just didn’t know what it was. ‘It’s like this Lou,’ I said. ‘I found nothing that shows your thugs are working to stiff you, but I have found something you’re really going to hate?’ ‘Then tell me what you know, god-damn it, I’m a busy man. I’ve got better things to do than shoot the shit with some cheap gumshoe.’ As I dug the videotape out of my briefcase, I thought to myself, well, here goes nothing. I slapped the tape in a video machine Lou had in his. More

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