I have been so cold that I didn’t care whether I lived or died. I have been soaked to the point where my entire body was par-boiled. I have been hit...by flying rocks the size of a bullet—going almost as fast. I have been yelled at, teased, and yes I have been fucked and sucked-- and returned the favor. I even pimped myself out or traded sexual favors for a ride at times. That is what my next several stories will be about. Years later, it is the good hitches I remember. The thought of them. For the next twenty minutes, Santa pile-drove me. Again and again andagain and again and again. Like a metronome. One toe-curling strokeafter another. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG. Sometimes he'dchange up the angle of the stroke. Sometimes, off the cuff, he'd changeup the tempo, or give me three or four bangs in rapid succession, likechanging a rifle from single shot to full auto.He was shooting me with his love.BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG. More

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