Yeah, that blow did damage, it punctured his lung.I could hear his breathing, wet, rasping as the blood filled his lung. I hit him again, back of the ...ead, and again, lower back or ass maybe. I beat his arms with this blow, his back with that one. I bashed his head again, and he stopped trying to crawl away, he lay there. A thick belch of blood spewed from his mouth, it was so beautiful to see his pain.“Peckerwood,” I said and smacked him again. It felt good beating his worthless white ass. I. So not wanting to spoil her fun, I left and walked down to the theatre and hung around debating whether or not to go in. My mind was still racing with images of Polly being used by the gang of men and I just had to go back to the bar for another look. I had been gone for about an hour. As I entered I couldn't see Polly in the booth. All the guys were there but where my wife had been sitting there was an empty place. Just then I noticed her head bobbing up and down. She was lying on her side on. Some old customs said that a child wasn’t fully part of the family until their fifth birthday, when they were sure the child would survive. Mother assured her that her fifth birthday would mark her time. That was when everyone would see.No one saw. It was her fifth birthday and there were smirks from ladies with too much make-up, there were consultations with the important old women, there was some crying from Mother. Daddy had a man bring a pony and Cassie was happy.Peter Santorini was. Tomorrow morning it's British Airways back to Gatwick." And what have you planned for the rest of this day?"Ellen grinned at him, an impish grin."I was thinking of a repeat performance of this morning." Sounds like a plan," Henry seconded after what seemed to be some careful thought.They skipped lunch that day, in fact they never left the bed until it was time to shower and get dressed.Even that took a bit longer because Henry insisted on making sure Ellen was clean. Everywhere. She.
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