G2 plead with him with his eyes, but the young man shrugged his shoulders and went back to the fire. “Twenty fucking dollars,” said the old man. �...�Go home and have a bath and wash the stink of us filth off of you. I’d kill you for fifty dollars. Twenty dollars, I’ll just kick you in the nuts again and tell you to get lost. And stay away from our bridge.” G2 stumbled away from the men, beaten, dirty, and penniless. He slept the night in a doorway of a warehouse and prayed that he could get back. He runs his hands down the side of my back and I feel the energy he has in his hands melt into my skin. When he gets down to my hips, he tells me to take a wider stance, so I step my legs out so they wider than hip length apart. He pats my ass a few times and stands beside me with his hand still on my upper hip. “Go ahead,” he tells the guy and I hear the guy sigh with happiness as he approaches me. He begins painting my ass cheeks with the cake and patting it lightly, apparently a bit. More

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