Went to that garden Vincent van Gogh made famous – pickings are always good there. And there was some American college kid, sitting on the balustrade, one knee up, white panties glistening in the sun, cute little schoolgirl slit all but evident, cute little school girl clit surely soaking in the warmth, soaking in the flood of school girl cunt juice. Not quite under my breath I whispered, “Pretty panties, want me to slit them with my sharp knife? Want me to slide my sausage between those lovely love lips and fuck you all the way to Firenza or wherever your tour goes next?” She smiled at me as if she knew what I was thinking. Her smile turned almost smirkish. She beckoned me over with her eyes. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” she said. Then, “Would you mind taking my picture?” “No problemo,” I said, and she handed me her Nikon. I backed up the requisite steps and pushed the button. “One more for luck?” I asked. She nodded eagerly. I took two more steps back and pressed the button.

Then I turned and made a run for it.

Story by Auguste Hand

Illustration by Mat