“She wears those black heels with the straps — Very sexy!”

So thought a shoe-gazing man named Fettes as he downed his fourth rum of the night. Outside, the subject of his lust walked slowly down the street.

Jane wasn’t alone, of course. The hooker was going to a nearby alley, one that stank of beer and urine, much like the bar she trolled.

“We can do it against the wall,” the half-drunk john said, slapping money into Jane’s hand. He had a condom in his wallet and, with no little effort, tore the packet open and rolled it over his thick, throbbing tool. A few clumsy gropes later, and he grunted, “You’re too tall. Kick off the high heels.”

“No,” Jane said. “The street’s filthy. My stockings rip easy on the... Read More