Chapter 2: Boston, Massachusetts

Seventeen days later, their money nearly running out, Morning sat cross-legged on their shared small bed. Breathing slowly and deeply, Morning’s mind delved deeply through her past. Through lives uncounted, years too numerous to count, and lovers beyond measure. Remembered families that were loved and lost. Friends made that had to be left behind lest they noticed she never aged. Children born that she watched age, wither and die so many times that she used her talents to prevent her body from creating another.

Her mother, Day, became increasingly nervous and restless as her daughter remained still, somnolent. Only rising to complete her daily ablutions or when Day placed food before her. Eventually, exasperated, Day growled, “My girl, you know we cannot remain here. We have no money and almost no food. We must move again, change our appearance, and find jobs.”

With her eyes staring wanderingly into her past, Morning distantly replied, “It is not yet time. There is — I have to — change. There is...” Morning’s voice faded, then returned strongly, “They’re here!”

Her mother snatched her Talwar sword up and spun to face the door, “How many?” She asked as she gracefully moved her sword through the forms, preparing to fight.

Her voice distant again, Morning replied, “Not here, here. Here in Boston. They’ve followed our scent as far as the bus station but have lost it amongst the throng. No more than a day before they find us, though.”

“Then we must away, my daughter,” Day pleaded. “We cannot fight to kill, only fight to run. So we must avoid the fight and run now!”

“Almost, Mum,” Morning distantly answered, her mind’s eye searching through her past again. “I will meditate all night and be ready by morning.” Then Morning’s eyes focused with blazing intensity on her mother. “It is time to stop being the prey and hunt.” Before Day could respond, Morning’s eyes drifted to space again, and the soft, rumbling hum she’d uttered since she began meditating returned.

Sighing, Day squeezed herself into the small gap her daughter had left on the bed and tried to sleep. Day was deeply asleep, dreaming of her long-lost husband when Morning gripped her wrist firmly.

“Who was my father, Mum?” Morning asked as her eyes blazed in the room’s darkness.

Confused, Day replied, “The old king, वृषभगर्जनम् (Bull Roaring). If you remember, your husband, गरुड स्वूपिंग (Eagle Swooping), challenged him for the chieftaincy. When Eagle defeated him, he became the king. You were perhaps fifteen.”

“Yes, Mum,” Morning exasperatedly replied. “Bull raised me, but who was my father?”

Day’s already swarthy face darkened as an embarrassed blush suffused her face. “Your father and I tried for children many times and were unsuccessful. Bull should have taken another wife, but I knew the problem was with him because he’d visited with the widowed women many times, and none of them ever got pregnant. If word had gotten out that The Chief was unable to sire children, then the challengers would have come long before your husband.”

“Who was my father, Mum?” Morning insisted.

“जले प्रकाशः स्फुरति (Light Sparkling on the Water),” Day reluctantly admitted.

“The Shaman?” Morning gasped.

“Light was a friend from childhood,” Day explained. “I went to him with my problem, and Light offered to fix it. He read the bones and told me the day to visit him again. When that day arrived, I sent Bull and his warriors on a hunting trip and then visited The Shaman. When I left his tent, Light assured me I was pregnant.”

“How did he make you pregnant, Mum?” Morning asked.

Day’s blush deepened before she cast her eyes away and answered, “The same way you got pregnant, daughter.”

“You fucked him?” Morning exclaimed.

“I know no other way to get pregnant, daughter. Do you?”

“What did you tell Dad?”

Day’s eyes blazed, and she responded, “Nothing! When Bull returned from the hunt, I took him inside my body and made him spill his useless seed into me. A month later, I proudly announced to him that I was pregnant. Bull told the tribe afterwards. If you had been a son, Eagle would never have challenged your father for the chieftaincy.”

“My powers?” Morning asked.

“A gift from The Shaman with help from the Gods, Morning. Unfortunately, the white slavers came before Light could fully train you in your gifts.”

“They killed our Shaman first, Mum. He scared them, so they killed him.”

“Because Light could kill them, Morning,” Day explained. “Not temporarily slaughtering them, with two more to fight the following day. Kill them, so their souls were cast into the shadow from whence they came, left to burn for eternity.”

“I have that power, Mum,” Morning unequivocally stated, her eyes once again distant, exploring her memories and the cosmos. “It was nascent inside me, but I can feel it now. I know how to kill them! I believe that I can show you, Mum. I meant what I said. I’m tired of running, and it is time to hunt!”

Perplexed, Day looked at her daughter, “Three and a half thousand years, and now you find this inside you?”

“I have the gifts from The Shaman and The Gods, Mum. How do you explain being still alive and still being my protector all these years later?”

“I don’t know,” Day hesitatingly replied.

“Even though I didn’t know I had the ability to do it, I decided in your womb that I needed you to protect me forever, and I shared the Shaman’s and God’s gifts with you. However, the only gift I shared was the gift of immortality. Immortal, unless we’re killed.”

Suddenly, Morning froze as her eyes blazed. “They’ve found where we are and will be here inside an hour.”

“Then we run,” Day stated as she began packing their meagre belongings.

“No!” Morning stated firmly. “There’s an underpass on their route they will be loath to enter. That will make them tentative and slow. We will ambush them there, and I will despatch their sick souls back to the darkness.”

“You’re sure you can do that, daughter?” Day asked. “If you’re wrong, we double their numbers the following day.”

“Whether we run from four or eight, we run. But, if we continue only to kill when we have to, eventually, whichever direction we run will be towards more of them.”

“Our tribe has run and hid for millennia, Morning. We may very well be the last living pure-blooded members of our clan of the Jarawa tribe. The rest have died or been killed to protect you and your gifts.”

Derogatorily mimicking her mother, Morning sneered, “Three and a half thousand years, and you now tell me this?”

“You weren’t ready to hear!” Day protested. “I’ve protected and nurtured you for three and a half millennia, Morning. Had your back for all that time, and you dare talk to me so?”

Morning hugged her mother to show she’d been teasing. Stepping back, Morning said, “We need to change.”

Day looked down at her tight leather pants and clinging leather top. Her strong leg muscles bulged against the leather, and her muscular arms were uncovered. “What’s wrong with what we’re wearing?” Day asked her similarly attired daughter.

Morning laughed and said, “Not our clothes, Mother.”

“What do you mean, Morning?” Day asked. “You’re the shapeshifter, not me.”

“I can change us both,” Morning stated confidently. “That will mean you won’t have to hide in the shadows to protect me.”

You’re sure?” Day questioned.

“Yes, Mum,” Morning asserted.

“It won’t help,” Day pointed out. “When they’re close enough, the slavers hunt by smell, Morning. If we lie in wait for them, changing our appearance won’t fool them.”

“Then I shall change our scent, too, Day,” Morning answered. “The Shaman’s power is awakening inside me. I need more time to grow into my powers, so we change and then kill. When they’re dead, we run again, change our bodies, including our scent, and hide until I can grow my powers.”

“Let’s do this then!”

Morning took Day’s upper arms in her hands and growled, “Close your eyes, Mum. This will hurt.”

Light glowed from Morning’s eyes, forming a halo around her head. As she concentrated, the halo grew into a sphere enveloping Day’s and her head. The sphere slowly expanded until Morning and her Mother were completely encased.

Twenty minutes later, Day crouched inside a rubbish bin. Shifting her trousers, Day tried to adjust her cock and balls so they weren’t crushed inside her tight-fitting leather trousers. Using her sense of smell, she searched for the unmistakable old blood odour of the slavers. Day wasn’t sure she’d be able to identify the scent over the rotting refuse that she’d emptied from the bin. Morning had hidden herself around the blind T-corner, waiting for her mother’s signal.

Closing her eyes, Day shuddered as she remembered the intense pain from her shapeshift. She opened her eyes and looked down at her flat, muscled chest and taut stomach. Unconsciously, she slid her hand inside her trousers and fondled the thick, 7-inch cock nestled there, marvelling at her tight, golf ball-sized testicles. She recalled Morning waking her, standing, and spotting her reflection in the mirror. Amazed, Day had turned to see her daughter was taller and even more muscular than her.

Day’s eyes, drawn by the magnificent man before her, dropped to her daughter’s crotch, seeing a long, thick penis bulging against her daughter’s pants. Day had unawarely licked her lips, thinking about riding that monster before her conscious mind reminded her that she had a dick, too, and that that ‘man’ was, in fact, her daughter.

Day’s eyes opened. She hadn’t smelt anything amiss, but the unmistakable sounds of feet furtively moving had slipped into her awareness. Now that her senses had awoken, the old blood aroma of slavers tickled her nose. She patiently waited until the sounds had passed her position before carefully opening the bin’s lid enough to peer out.

Seeing that the slavers had passed her, Day quietly opened the bin and let the lid drop silently. Then, shrieking her war cry, Day leapt from the bin and attacked the slavers from behind. The huge roar that blasted from her chest surprised her. Day had expected her normal primal shriek, and this new masculine roar amazed even her.

Shocked and confused, the slavers turned to face this vicious, unexpected attack, and two of the six men went down before they could even raise a shield or mount a defence. However, Day, still concerned about killing the men and having to face twice their number the following day, had only hamstrung the two she’d attacked, leaving them alive but out of the fight. The four standing slavers turned and spread, preparing to attack Day from four directions if possible.

“Cá bhfuil do iníon fraochÚn? (Where is your whore daughter?)” The man Day assumed was the leader snarled.

“Behind you,” Day smiled.

“An gceapann tú go bhfuil muid chomh dúr? (You think we are so stupid?)” The slaver asked.

“Yes,” Day replied, her smile turning feral.

The man’s returning grin turned into a scream as Morning Sun swung her battle axe, shearing his legs off at the knee. Morning’s return swing opened the throats of the two men to the first two’s right. Only mere seconds had passed since Day Dawning’s roar. None of the men were dead, but the two with opened throats would quickly die without swift intervention.

With her eyes wide and fearful, Day pointed at the men and said, “These two will die in seconds. Tomorrow, we will face eight instead of six.”

Day grinned at her mother before pulling out what looked like a simple kitchen paring knife. Before Day’s stunned eyes, Morning buried the knife into the middle of the first throat cut slaver’s forehead and levered out what appeared to be a small glass crystal. Flipping the knife upside down, Morning used the handle to smash the crystal. As soon as the crystal shattered, the slaver screamed before exploding into a dust storm and disappearing.

Morning quickly despatched the second slaver with a throat injury the same way. The remaining four, silent but terrified, tried to crawl away. Morning casually, one by one, flipped them over and dug the crystals from their foreheads. Each crystal destroyed extinguished a slaver. They all disappeared in a gust of dust and wind.

When the last slaver disappeared, Morning stood. “I don’t know about you, Mother, but I’m horny!” Morning stated as she walked toward the steps to the street above. She casually groped her mother’s thickly erect cock as she passed her. “Looks like you are, too,” she added before walking off. “There’s a bar not far from here. Why don’t we see if we can pick up?”

“I’m not sure a man will find me attractive dressed like this,” Day Dawning mused.

“So, pick up a woman,” Morning Sun indifferently suggested.

Walking casually through the crowded bar, Morning and Day made their way through to the bathrooms. Getting there, Morning realised just how badly her mother stunk. Pulling a face, Morning said, “Maybe you should head back to the unit and shower, Mother. You’re a little ... rank.”

Upon sniffing herself, Day agreed. She left the bar and took the short ten-minute walk to the YWCA, where she and Morning were staying. Day’s problems began when she tried to walk through the lobby and climb the stairs.

“Sorry,” the staunchly built middle-aged woman manning the front counter said. “No visitors beyond the lobby.”

“I’m staying here,” Day explained before stepping towards the stairs.

“Why lie to me when the lie is so blatantly obvious?” The woman asked. “This is the YWCA. You want the YMCA, which is across the other side of town.”

Thinking quickly, Day turned and affected a look of confusion before bursting into tears. Tears on a woman elicited sympathy and a desire to help. A man crying typically caused discomfort and a need to get away from the situation quickly. The large woman behind the counter was no different. Looking askance, she squirmed when Day wailed, “You’re right. I’m sorry, but I smell bad, and I’m so tired. I was hoping I could shower and sleep in my friends Day and Morning’s room until they come back.”

Feeling extremely uncomfortable, the manager grabbed the Master key and a couple of towels before saying, “Come with me. I’ll check out the showers, and if there’s no one in them, I’ll let you shower. As you shower, I’ll run your clothes through a quick rinse and spin program and let you sleep in Day’s and Morning’s room. But if they say they don’t know you, I’m calling the cops!”

Smiling at her subterfuge, Day agreed and followed the large woman up the stairs to the shower admiring the woman’s large ass as it bounced and rippled. Luckily, as they usually were at this time of day, the showers were empty. The Y’s manager let Day in and turned to say she’d wait outside until Day had passed her clothes through the door. Examining the powerfully built woman before her, Day felt her cock stiffen and lengthen. Debbie, the woman’s name tag announced. Day let her eyes roll appreciatively over the woman’s large breasts. Debbie’s blouse fought a losing war to keep her G-cup breasts contained.

Debbie, of Irish-Catholic descent, turned and saw the powerfully built black man staring at her hungrily. Unable to control herself, Debbie’s eyes dropped and saw the biggest cock she’d ever seen bulging against the man’s tight, leather-covered crotch. Her nether regions moistening as she imagined kneeling and taking that monster in her mouth, Debbie licked suddenly dry lips and stuttered, “I’ll wait outside.”

Not answering, Day, her libido red-lining from tonight’s earlier escapades, took Debbie’s hand and pulled her close. Forcing her leg between Debbie’s muscular thighs, Day rubbed her thigh against Debbie’s clit and said, “I think you should shower with me, Debbie.”

“I can’t do that,” Debbie protested, her body threatening to swoon. Debbie had mostly indulged in lesbian relationships. Not because she was gay but because she couldn’t attract the type of man she wanted. She intimidated guys and mostly finished with mommie boys who wanted her to protect them. Debbie didn’t want that. No, what Debbie wanted was a man strong enough to make her submit. To take a handful of her long, lustrous, red hair and force her onto her knees. Then she wanted that man to slowly force his thick cock down her throat until she gagged. Debbie’s fantasies were about to come true.

Day turned Debbie until Day could reach the bathroom’s door lock. She locked the door with an emphatic click. “Kneel,” Day demanded as she pulled Debbie down. Only mildly protesting, the staunch woman sank to her knees. “Take me out,” Day commanded. Debbie, her hands shaking nervously, complied. Day’s cock sprung free and hit Debbie’s surprised cheek. A soft moan of desire escaped Debbie’s lips. “Suck it,” Day demanded, pulling Debbie’s head closer to her straining cock.

Looking submissively up at the muscular black man above her, Debbie wrapped her hand around Day’s shaft, opened her mouth and guided Day’s throbbing member inside. Day groaned, and her head tipped back in appreciation. Day’s hand tightened on the back of Debbie’s head, and Day began to slowly force her entire length into Debbie’s sucking and slurping mouth. Debbie gagged when Day’s cock hit her reflex. But this was what she wanted—what she’d ached for for all her adult life. Swallowing quickly, Debbie coughed around Day’s cock and allowed the rest of Day’s shaft down her throat.

There’s a good little submissive slut,” Day cooed as she held Debbie’s head and jaw and began face fucking her.

Debbie choked but sucked gamely, swirling her tongue over Day’s cock’s head when it pulled far enough back. Her right hand left Day’s enormous cock and moved between her thighs, and she manipulated her clit through her pants as she revelled in the sensation of completely submitting to another. Debbie continued sucking and slurping until, with a loud roar, Day’s cum exploded from her cock and splashed down Debbie’s throat. Pushing on Debbie’s forehead, Day grabbed her erupting shaft and jacked it, squirting semen all over the middle-aged woman’s face.

Coming down, Day smiled down at the kneeling woman, “You’re a disgrace,” she grinned. “Strip off and get in the shower with me.”

“Yes, Sir,” Debbie meekly said, undoing her blouse buttons and peeling it off her shoulders.

Day watched Debbie’s massive melons dropping into view, and her cock immediately lengthened and stiffened again. Unable to wait, Day pulled the large woman to her feet, turned and shoved her against the sink, causing Debbie to bend at her hips. Ripping Debbie’s pants and underwear down, Day smacked the woman’s muscular ass before reaching around and mauling Debbie’s ginormous tits and silver dollar-sized nipples. Debbie moaned and pushed back and Day’s strainingly erect cock, not caring which of her fuck holes the powerful man took.

“Cunt first,” Day muttered, aware that Debbie didn’t care. “Later, you can ride me with my cock in your arse.” Holding her cock’s massive base, Day positioned its head at Debbie’s entrance. Unfamiliar with the action, Day struggled to complete the penetration. Frustrated, Debbie reached back and repositioned Day’s cock, then she pushed back, and Day’s cock slid into her. “Good slut,” Day purred, quickly working out how to firmly pump her hefty sex partner.

“Pinch my nipples,” Debbie pleaded as Day fucked her firmly.

Happy to oblige, Day reached around and cupped Debbie’s enormous boobs. Searching across them, Day found Debbie’s sizeable nipples and viciously squeezed them between her thumbs and forefingers. With a shriek, Debbie climaxed, her frothy pussy fluids flowing over Day’s balls. Unable to control herself, Day grunted and unloaded into Debbie’s cunt.

Shuddering with short hunches, Day came into Debbie several more times before she sagged against the large woman’s back. After resting there momentarily, Day dreamily suggested that they actually moved to the shower. Debbie, who expected Day to immediately send her from the room because that had always been her previous experience, smiled happily as she held Day’s hand and walked into one of the shower booths.

The showers at this Y were communal, with no partitions between the nozzles. This meant there was plenty of room for the tall, muscular Day and the amply-sized Y manager. Knowing what Debbie needed, Day handed Debbie the soap and held her arms wide, allowing Debbie to wash her. The cleaning finished with Debbie kneeling before Day and sucking her enormous cock again. This time, Debbie’s fingers flew over her clitoris as she gobbled delightedly on Day’s throbbing erection. When Day climaxed, Debbie moaned as an orgasm swept over her.

Helping Debbie to her feet, Day passionately kissed her before saying, “Close up the front counter and join me in your rooms behind it. It’s time for you to take my cock in your ass and ride it.”

“Yes, Sir,” Debbie acquiesced before walking quickly from the shower, picking up Day’s leather outfit as she left.

Day luxuriated under the steaming hot water for a few moments longer, reliving the fight in the underpass. She marvelled at how her daughter had dug out and smashed the glass-looking crystals from the slavers’ foreheads. More amazing was how the slavers’ bodies immediately turned to dust and blew away. It was as if all the years those man-looking creatures had lived had caught up with them all at once, and they’d become the dust they should have been when their natural life cycle had passed, and they’d died, or if they’d died forever when previously killed.

Wondering what her daughter would want to do next, Day’s thoughts shifted to the amply proportioned woman waiting for her in the manager’s lodgings. Day smiled as her newly found cock lengthened and hardened. Shutting off the water, Day quickly dried, anticipating how Debbie’s ass would feel, sliding down her recently acquired shaft. Day walked past the front counter, and smiled when she saw the closed sign. Opening the door and entering the apartment, Day smiled wider when she saw a naked Debbie kneeling submissively before her bed, eagerly awaiting her new dominant’s arrival.

Meanwhile, back at the bar, Morning was unsuccessfully trying to pick up a series of women. Morning was unused to being on this side of the dance. Typically, as a woman, she was used to men trying to pick her up. Her need to remain anonymous meant that her previous persona, Dustin Martens, affected a nerdish, shy manner, pretending to be uncomfortable around women. Morning was athletically gifted, so she could easily have dominated any sport she cared to try. But, with her need to hide being paramount, Morning had allowed her body to become unfit, podgy, even. This allowed her to extend her shy, reluctant to engage personality and let her hide more effectively. As a result, Morning had never even tried to woo a woman before. Her exotic good looks combined with her fit and toned body meant that, as a woman, she never had to pursue because men came onto her in droves.

Giving up, Morning ordered another whiskey with ice and settled at the bar. Idly, she wondered how she and Day would pay for next month’s rent and food. Looking through her pockets, Morning realised that they had less than a hundred dollars left from the money she had purloined from her father’s account. Still, she and her mother were now muscular men, and getting work shouldn’t be that difficult. However, after killing six slavers, staying in Boston, especially without changing their appearance, was at best unwise and, at worst, probably suicidal.

Now that Morning could change hers and her mother’s scents, temporarily staying was possibly an option, but it would be better to vacate Boston swiftly and re-establish themselves elsewhere. That required money, though. Money was a substance that she and Day sorely lacked. As she sat and thought, Morning’s mind suddenly slipped into her awareness-searching mode. In her mind, Morning could see a Gaelic clan chief ordering his lieutenant to investigate the sudden loss of emanations from six of his slavers—their last known location was Boston, Massachusetts.

“You okay, handsome?” A warm, sultry voice intruded.

Regathering her thoughts, Morning turned to the voice and checked her out. Tall and well-filled out, with at least a 36C chest, narrow waist and flaring hips, the woman had a sexual, dusky aspect. Morning felt her cock throb as her attraction to the shapely woman swiftly grew.

“I’m fine,” Morning smiled. “May I buy you a drink?”

“That depends,” the well-dressed woman replied.

“On?” Morning asked.

“If you can afford the price.” The woman answered.

Sipping her whiskey, Morning smiled, “You’re a call girl? An extremely expensive one, I assume?”

Sighing, the woman climbed onto the stool beside Morning and ordered a glass of white wine. “Yup,” she replied. “I was supposed to meet a client across the road at the hotel. But when I got there, the creep wanted to watch me with his daughter. That was too weird, even for me, so here I am, trying to make up three thousand lost dollars.”

Raising an eyebrow, Morning said, “How did you know I wasn’t a cop?”

“Dude!” The sexy woman chuckled. “Cops do not wear leather that clings to their bulge so tightly that their cock’s head is outlined through it!”

“No, I guess you’re right,” Morning laughed back. “But why, in this bar, did you choose me?”

“You got shot down six times, man,” the woman replied. “I thought you might be up for some paid fun.”

“Even if I was,” Morning confessed. “I wouldn’t be able to afford you. Is three thousand a typical night for you?”

“It’s a little on the low side,” the woman replied before holding her hand out and adding, “Chloe Decker. You are?”

Morning was about to answer with her name but realised that would leave a trail for the slavers to follow. Thinking quickly, she said, “Merv Sonder. Pleased to meet you, Chloe. How much money could you typically make doing what you do?” She asked.

“Between three and ten thousand dollars a night,” Chloe replied. “The best gigs are the rich, lonely dudes. Pay them a little attention, play on the whole daddy/daughter thing, act vulnerable and pretend their strength turns you on, and you can easily get tipped another one to two thousand dollars.”

“You like what you do?” Morning asked.

“Oh Gawd, yes!” Chloe asked. “Look, a lot of guys are just wham, bam, thank you, ma’am, now fuck off. But regularly, a guy wants to show you what a stud he is. Those guys, wow! They will take you around the world in so many ways that it’s unbelievable. I’m lying there, massive orgasm after massive orgasm crashing over me, thinking, ‘Wow! This idiot is paying to make me feel like this!’ Heck, if he’s that good, I’d probably fuck him for free!”

An idea began to percolate through Morning’s mind. ‘What if she changed her and her mother’s appearance to resemble something like the young call girl before her?’ Suppose she changed their scent as well as their features dramatically, from skin colour to size, weight, and bone structure. In that case, it should be enough to keep them away from the slavers’ attention long enough to earn enough money to re-establish themselves in another city. If they changed their scent and appearance again, they could hopefully disappear for months or even years again. That would give Day and Morning a chance to plan and train how they would take the fight to the slavers and perhaps free themselves and their clan forever.

“I’m a little short of money this week,” Morning nonchalantly said. “But I’m expecting a large payday shortly. If I wanted to contact you, how would I do that?”

Chloe smiled, realising Merv was only fantasising, but heck, he was cute. Maybe she could give a rare free pass when he called and enjoy a night of pure passion where she didn’t have to act and pretend how much she was enjoying herself. Reaching into her purse, Chloe pulled out her business card. The front held the details of the service she worked for—ostensibly, a model agency. The rear had Chloe’s name and registration number so a client could ask for her personally. Shrugging, Chloe pulled out a pen and added her mobile number to that side.

“Best you call the agency first,” Chloe stated. “Because if I don’t recognise the number, I probably won’t answer. If you ask for me, they’ll text your message to me, and I can return your call.”

The couple chatted for a few more minutes before Chloe said, “I’ll have to leave. The agency is expecting their forty per cent of the three thousand dollars I was supposed to earn tonight, so I’ll have to try at least and find someone to pay for my services.”

Understanding, Morning kissed Chloe’s surprised cheek and wished her well. Morning admired Chloe’s tight ass as she walked from the bar. Swallowing the dregs of her whiskey, Morning dropped thirty dollars on the bar, more than enough to cover the drinks and leave a reasonable tip and left the bar. Shrugging, she adjusted her package, trying to ease the ache and throb in her cock and balls, and headed towards the underpass to make her way back to the Y.

There were several young black gang members gathered in the tunnel, but one look at the imposing, leather-clad black man walking towards them, and they all decided there were easier pickings. They let Morning pass without commentary, ensuring they kept their eyes averted.