This isn’t a hotel,’ ordered the big, burly agent. ‘Scram, get out of here!’ ‘I have nowhere to go.’ ‘Tough, this isn’t a charity hous.... Go find a soup kitchen or a flop house. Get out!’ The old man got clumsily to his feet and headed for the door. He knew there was a soup kitchen around there somewhere, but his drug softened brain wouldn’t tell him where. He stumbled out onto the sidewalk and started down the street. He only went two blocks when he recognized the soup kitchen and staggered. ? You stopped stroking me, held me up, looked into my eyes, you leaned forward and made me melt, offering your strength to me. ?If I take you to see a therapist, will you go?? ?Why do I need to see a therapist?? ?Because, you are hurt and broken, and while I can support you, hold you, care for you protect you, I don’t know how to fix it, and I need to see you fixed so,? She leans into my ear and breathes huskily, ?So I can make you burn with desire for me, and feel you burn for me, not. More

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