"Hey Wolfe, wassup?" Jackson said.Wolfe stared into empty air with stony silence.The door opened and a fat man walked in wearing a red silk dressing g...wn."Hey Mr Koontz, how's it hanging?" Jackson asked."Like a long, fat pendulum," Koontz answered.Same old Koontz, Jackson thought, a fat greasy shit with absolutely no idea of how ridiculous he looked. This was the same guy that ran the whole of the west side. A guy that crazy mad dog killers like Estevez and Winter spoke of in hushed tones.He. "Ah! Yes, I...I like when they look at my tits! I...want them to want me..." And what does that make you?" I asked."A...a slut, I'm a slut. I want them to look at me, I want to make them hard..." she said, gasping.I knew this about her already, of course. For all her secret inexperience, she seemed to revel in being wanted by men, always dressing to show skin and cleavage. She'd had a reputation around school for being a tease for a while now. I wanted to hear her confess it to me, confess that. More

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