Tom's Diary - Cover

Tom's Diary

Copyright© 2003 by Gina Marie Wylie

Chapter 10

Incest Sex Story: Chapter 10 - Tom Ferguson is a high school junior who's coming of age experience is a plethora of girls, women and challenges.

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Ma/ft   mt/Fa   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   Incest   Mother   Son   Brother   Sister   Daughter   Cousins   Orgy   Interracial   Black Female   White Male   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Petting  

Sunday, March 24, 2002

I woke up, then went downstairs to the family room; dug out a newspaper, and went through the want ads. I knew enough about Phoenix to know which were good neighborhoods; I wrote down a list of twenty apartment rents, for three bedroom apartments. I added them up, came up with an average rent of $975 a month. Doable, I thought.

I went in the kitchen, found the little ledger book Mom kept of the household expenses. I'd been curious a few times, looked at it, but it hadn't interested me, and I didn't pay it much attention. Now I did. Four people, we averaged around five hundred dollars a month for food, probably going to go up now that Jenny was here. About fifty a month each for clothes; Mom and JR liked to dress up, now and then. So did Dad; not me. So, a little more than a hundred dollars a month per person for food, fifty dollars for clothes, maybe a bit less. Two hundred for utilities, for everyone.

Maybe two thousand a month, for everything, for three people. Twenty four thousand dollars a year, after taxes. I smiled at myself, grinning foolishly. There was a question I'd wished I'd asked at the time, but I hadn't known then what I figured now. I sat staring at the numbers for quite a while.

A little after seven, I was still sitting there thinking, when Dad and JR returned from Kim's. JR hugged me, yawned and headed up to her room.

"Up early," Dad said. "That doesn't bode well for your dinner date last night."

"Feel up to a walk?" I asked, and he laughed.

"You rather mixed the metaphors there," he told me, but nodded. "I've got another golf game this afternoon, a warm up would be nice."

I led the way, setting a very brisk pace, at least as fast as he'd set yesterday. Mary and her family lived about three miles away; I walked steadily, silently.

We were almost there when Dad spoke. "Yesterday, we walked about four miles. I hope you noticed that when we got done, we were home."

"I noticed. Not today," I told him. "I think I need to do this more often."

"Even at your age, it wouldn't hurt," he told me.

I stopped in front of Mary's place. "You told me last year what Grandfather's plan was for us, JR and me."

"Yes. Craig's administering everything, but it's his father's plan he's working from. The old man never forgave your mom for getting pregnant. Still, it's better to skip a generation in leaving inheritances; you save a lot on taxes."

"So, twice a year Craig puts money into your investment portfolios, you and JR. Into his own.

"I never liked the old man, but I'd never wish Alzheimer's on anyone."

"So, the contributions are about a half million each, each time. Craig could easily do a lot more, but there are tax reasons on both sides why this is the best for now."

"And you're in charge of investing it for JR and me?"

He nodded. "I supervise Craig, anyway." He looked curiously at me, standing in the early morning sun.

"You told me, you believe in diversification," I said.

"That's correct. Stocks, bonds, real estate. Even some gold in a vault in LA."

I pointed to the house. "What do you think that house is worth?"

He looked around, spent a second thinking. "Probably two-forty, two-fifty. Nice house, nice neighborhood, but not new."

"I want to buy it," I said flat out. "Or at least make an offer."

He looked at the house, then back at me. "I don't see a for sale sign. Why this house? What's wrong with ours?"

"Nothing's wrong with ours, nothing at all." I nodded at the house. "Shannon Leary lives there, her mom and sister."

"The girl and her family you went to have dinner with last night?" I nodded. "And you want to buy their house? Then what? Turn them out on the street?"

I nearly lost my temper; that hit me hard and low, it was all I could do not to say something stupid. Instead I clenched my jaw shut, willing myself to stand still, not say anything.

"Just stepped in it big time, didn't I?" Dad said, embarrassed. "Tom, we all say things from time to time that hurt people or piss them off; the least you could do is tell me where I stepped in it, so I can miss the mess next time."

"Yesterday, Shannon's father left them. Cleaned out their bank account except for a few dollars and left. Walked away from his family. Mary Leary got pregnant with Shannon when she was thirteen, carried the baby to term; dropped out of high school, eventually got a GED. But she's never worked a day in her life."

I saw gray bleak wilderness behind his eyes. "God, Tom! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to imply you're like that... even if I did say it. I really am sorry.

"There are some despicable scum in the world, Tom. Pond scum, so low there are no good words to describe them."

"He said hateful, hurtful things to Mary, Shannon, and her sister Elizabeth. Nasty, hateful things." Dad nodded, looking at the house. "One thing Mary said to me, last night. He told her he was leaving her the house and the payments, her car and the payments. I think he meant that she couldn't make them, that she was going to lose them."

"Sounds like."

"Mary could sell the house."

Dad blinked, realizing now where I'd been coming from.

"I bet with an offer to buy, the bank wouldn't foreclose; it would give her time to find a job, figure out something. I don't know how much she owes on the house, but if she did sell it, Mary would have money in the bank, a cushion, enough to live on for a few years," I continued the thought.

He looked at me for a long stretch. "I was thinking, you must like this girl Shannon quite a lot. Yet, you keep talking about Mary." I met his eyes; I wasn't going to say anything, but it wasn't something he was going to have to think very hard about.

"Would you talk to Mary?" I asked softly. "We don't have to tell her about trust funds, and the like, at least not now."

"You didn't mention to her that you are a filthy capitalist, worth millions, and going to be worth tens of millions?"

"No. I have a feeling if I did that, she'd never talk to me again."

"Or you'd never be rid of her, ever," he said evenly.

This time I kept my temper. "Mom's not like that, you're not like that. Neither is JR. Uncle Craig and Aunt Shirley aren't like that. Kim's not like that, nor is Penny."

He held up his hand in self-defense. "Okay, okay, okay! I'll talk to her, okay?"

"Okay," I said, and we both laughed.

Then I went up to the door and rang the bell. It was Mary who answered, obviously tired, obviously having spent a great deal of time since I'd last seen her, crying.

"Dad, this is Mary McDowell, formerly Leary. Mary, this is my dad, Dave Ferguson."

Mary nodded, looked at her wristwatch. "It's early, I know," I told her. "Please, could we come in and talk to you?"

"About what, Tom?" Mary asked, on the edge between hostile and curious.

"You, Shannon and Elizabeth. The future." She was hesitating, and I said simply. "Please."

Dad spoke softly, "Tom told me a little about what happened. I'm an engineer, but I have some background in law and financial matters. He thinks I can help." He looked at me fondly, "I don't know if I can, but won't know until I try. Please."

She looked at him, then at me. "Last night, Tom and I," Dad shook his head, but she went on, "were together. Sexually."

"If you don't have a problem with it, and Tom doesn't have a problem with it, then I don't have a problem with it. Neither will my wife."

"My daughter had a cow," Mary said bluntly. "Yet, Tom talked to her last night; right now she's hoping he comes over later today. Of course," Mary's face sparkled with inner laughter, her smile was the most beautiful work of art in all creation. "Shannon was assuming it would be when she was awake."

Mary stepped back from the door, "Sure, come in. I don't think there's anything you can do to help, unless you've got a job I can do. A job for someone with zero skills and zero experience."

"We'll get to that," Dad said as we came in. "Tom's description of the events tells me that you are in immediate financial trouble."

"Bill left me a hundred dollars; I think that was a math error on his part, he was always overdrawing our checking account."

"How long have you lived here? Tom says the house has a mortgage, that you're not renting."

"We moved here right after Shannon was born, the down payment was a wedding present from Bill and my parents. They co-signed the loan, too. In 1998, my parents died within a few months of each other. We refinanced then, got a lower payment, lower interest, and didn't have any cosigners."

"Twenty or thirty year mortgage?" My dad asked.

"Ten; but it's moot. I can't make the payments, even if it's got less than six years to go."

"Is the mortgage current, ie, are you in arrears in the payments?"

Mary shook her head, "I don't know."

"Could you get the papers, and check please?" Dad said to her.

A moment later she was back, crying. "All the bills for the last two months! He put them in a drawer instead of paying them! Oh my God!"

I went to her, put my arm around her, hugged. Shannon appeared, wearing a long nightgown, Elizabeth was just behind her in jeans and a t-shirt.

"Why's Mom crying?" Shannon asked me belligerently. "What are you doing here? Who's he?" She gestured at my dad.

"Tom's dad," Elizabeth answered. "You can see it in their faces."

"Shannon, this is my dad, Dave Ferguson. Dad, Shannon and Elizabeth."

Mary pulled herself together in the few seconds the introductions took. "Shannon, Bill didn't pay the bills for the last couple of months."

"Ms. McDowell," Dad said.

The girls all looked at their mother, Shannon laughed. "I'm going to have to get used to that myself, aren't I?"

"It's up to you," Mary told her. "You too, Elizabeth." She looked at Dad. "Sorry, I'll call you Dave if you'll call me Mary."

"Mary, I know things, right this second, don't appear to be very good."

"I've got seventy odd dollars to my name, hundreds, perhaps a thousand dollars worth of bills past due, more coming due -- and no income. Not very good is a not very good way to describe it."

"And things really aren't very good; but while your options are limited, they aren't non-existent.

"First, your husband. What did he take when he left?"

"He just walked out, I didn't have any idea, any idea at all that he was unhappy or about to do it. Now, his closet is empty, his personal effects are gone. He must have gotten up early to get some of it, moved other things Friday night when I went out shopping and the girls were out. Everything else, the TV, the radio, that sort of thing, he left behind."

"Did he say where he was going?"

She shook her head. "No. He said I'd never find him, and if I did, I'd have to take him to court to get another penny out of him."

"Legally, you have been abandoned; that's a crime, but not a serious one and they don't really enforce it," Dad told her. "As soon as we leave, call the police and tell them your husband is missing; explain that he took his things, the same things you've told me. Get the report on file; you'll need that later.

"There are any number of groups, women's groups that will help you with some of the legal affairs, if that's what you want. Or, I have a personal attorney, you could see him."

"I have no money."

Shannon broke in; "Yeah, money. He took it all. Including what we'd saved for college, for Elizabeth and me."

"Eighty thousand dollars," Mary said.

Dad blinked. "That is simple theft; they do take that seriously and they do prosecute."

He went on, "The lack of money is why I suggested the women's groups first. Tom said you are unlikely to accept charity; I don't really believe that that sort of thing is charity, but I understand your hesitation. No, for legal advice, I don't have a problem with it. Beyond that? We'll cross that bridge when it happens.

"Your husband is a man of plots and designs. I suspect he's very weak on execution," Dad went on.

Mary looked at Dad in surprise.

"He's made a very serious mistake here, one that you are perfectly free to capitalize on." Dad waved around us. "This house. You have perhaps two hundred thousand dollars equity in it. While in the great scheme of things, not a huge amount of money, it would be enough to give you a considerable cushion, were you to sell the house."

"Bill's name is on it."

Dad smiled, but it was the smile of a cat, spotting a mouse. "You said your husband told you it was yours?" Mary nodded, "Well, then it's yours. Proving it, of course, will be a little more of a chore, but trust me, a lending institution, faced with a foreclosure, has ways to get around that. The court will help too. You can go to court, get a judgment against your husband, and the court will take the money from your husband's share of the proceeds from the sale of the house for child support and alimony, restitution for thieving your daughters' college money. Even male judges, hearing about a woman abandoned as you have been, will be generous, quite generous, in their terms. You'd be foolish not to find the most rabid feminist judge on the family court bench."

"You can pick judges?" Mary asked, confused.

"To an extent," Dad said, "To an extent. Further, if your home is in escrow, you can stay until the escrow closes; you can write all sorts of things into escrows. Like paying back mortgage payments, this that or the other bill; the buyer doesn't have to be privy to those arrangements, usually isn't, in fact. You can take out a bridge loan from a bank, secured against the sale price, for living expenses for you and your daughters until the sale is complete."

"To be honest, I look around this house and see too many things that remind me of my husband; I wouldn't mind leaving. I have no idea why he did this, none at all."

Dad looked at Shannon and Elizabeth. "I'd never have asked this, but for some recent experience of my own, with someone near and dear to my family. But do either of you have any idea why your father did this?"

Now it was my turn to be surprised. Dad thought Shannon's dad might be like Sam Reese? That was a terrible, terrible thing!

They both shook their heads. I searched Shannon's face; I didn't see anything other than the truth. I couldn't read a thing at all from Elizabeth.

There was a moment of silence, and then Mary looked at me, then back at Dad. "You're saying this wouldn't be a good time to throw myself and my daughters off a cliff in despair?"

"That's what I'm saying." Dad nodded to me. "You have Tom to thank for the idea, but I'd like to think, that if I'd learned of the circumstances another way, I'd have done the same thing."

"So we have some time to think, we have a way out, by selling the house? It might take a while, but we won't end up bag ladies, walking the streets?"

"Yep," I volunteered. Mary looked at me, her eyes gray and somber. I much preferred them to sparkle, but then, that was what this was about, putting the sparkle back for a long time to come.

"It's a little hard to say no, not to this," she said. "I'd do anything, anything at all, to protect my daughters."

"Even to getting a job?" my dad asked gently.

"Staying home was something I did at first because I loved my babies with all my heart; I wanted the best for them. Then it simply got easier and easier to do, as time went on. Too easy; I was too vulnerable. I need a job, yes."

"Tom said you dropped out of high school."

Mary met his eyes. "Yes, when I was pregnant with Shannon; looking back even a few years later I knew I'd messed up. When I was pregnant with Elizabeth, I took my GED, passed it."

"Can you type, use an adding machine?" Dad continued, "Do you have a computer?"

"Shannon and Elizabeth share a computer, I've done a few things on it. I write letters, mostly. I can type, a little. I know how to work an adding machine, but I'm not practiced. I can work a calculator. Bill said I could get a job as a waitress or bag boy."

Dad shook his head. "He didn't use physical punches, your husband, I'll give him that. But his words were meant in the same way as a punch; he was out to hurt you as badly as he could. Going to work in a restaurant would be a bad choice; there is virtually no future in it, and the money will be good enough at first to seem a godsend."

"And this is bad?" Mary asked.

"If you want to live in a small apartment for the rest of your life, if you want that life for your daughters, it would be fine."

"And what else am I equipped to do?" Mary said, her eyes flashing.

"You have a brain. You have quite adequate verbal skills. How much pride do you have?"

She shook her head. "Right now, I've started to think humble."

"That'll do until you start to hold your head up high again. Would you be willing to work in an office? Doing routine office work?"

"As long as it pays minimum wage, yes."

Dad grinned. "We have a terrible time with that, actually. You get ten dollars an hour now to start at some of the fast food places, like McDonald's and Burger King. So, we pay about $9.50 an hour to start. Ninety days later, you'd have health insurance."

Mary blinked, opened her mouth and then closed it again. "I don't know if we're still covered on Bill's company policy."

Dad smiled slightly. "After you file the police report, make sure you write down the report number. Call his employer tomorrow and see if he's there. If he is, call that information in to the police; don't try to go see him or talk to him. Most likely not; I suspect he's quit." Mary nodded.

"And," Dad went on, "in the off chance he should call, ask him to call back in a minute. Get anyone, anyone at all, even a neighbor, Tom or I, anyone, to come and listen. Try to get him to repeat the offer to give you the house in front of a witness. Then, don't chortle if he does. If, perchance, he should show up here, don't let him in; call the police."

Mary shook her head, "You think he's pretty dumb, don't you?"

"Pretty much," Dad said.

"It's amazing," Mary said, looking at me. "I hear Tom's voice in yours, his ways of thinking. Except, now I know it's the other way around, isn't it?"

"Yes," I said without hesitation.

"And if my wife Ellen was here, you'd realize we've both learned a lot from her, too," Dad added.

"I guess thanks doesn't even begin to cover it, does it?"

Dad shook his head. "Thanks is enough, as much as I'll ever ask. Tom's his own man."

I blushed, when Mary looked at me.

"Tom." It was Elizabeth and I turned to her. "Thank you." She met my eyes. "I wasn't sure about you, I thought I was, but I wasn't sure." Her voice was whisper soft, but clear. "Now I know why Jennifer sleeps with you."

There was a moment of silence and I mentally cursed the rest of my family, who just talked entirely too much about these things.

Elizabeth waved her hand at me in the silence. "Jennifer is gay, she used to hate men. Tom, she says, is a man, a real man, not like the others she's known in her life. With him, she says, she is safe, protected, and comfortable.

"I saw Tom stand up to Roger and his friends, the other night at school. All by himself; Tom's friends came a second later, but at first it was just Tom. By himself, against three of them. Jennifer says she can sleep with Tom, knowing that he will be there to protect her, keep her safe.

"And Tom doesn't mind that she doesn't want to have sex with him or any boy. She just wants him there, to know that the demons of the night have to stay away. And that's what he does; just that." She was crying, I saw. "And now he's here, helping us. Thank you, Tom."

My dad spoke softly too. "When Jennifer came to us, the first night she cuddled with my wife. Tried to sleep; couldn't. She trembled and shook, all night long. She would wake and start, looking around for her brother; sure he was hiding some place close. We didn't know about him then, thought it was something else. The next night she spent with Tom, the nights since. Tom is, she says, the only person she feels truly safe with, because all he wants from her, is her happiness and for her to be safe."

"That's all any of us want," Mary said. "It's proving much harder than I thought."

"It's worth the struggle," Dad told her.

"Yes," Mary replied, "it's worth the struggle: particularly when you have people who are willing to help."

"It makes it easier," I said, feeling relief. Jenny wasn't likely to have talked to Elizabeth about her fantasies. My life, I thought, is too complicated. I really, really didn't need any more women in my life. I really, really would rather spend the weekend with Mary, than a week with my Aunt Shirley, Uncle Craig and a cornucopia of convivial concubines.

Dad went over the high points again, gave Mary our phone number, address, the name of someone to see at his office.

Then Mary asked if I could come back later. I knew she and Shannon had been trading glances, I wasn't sure what that was about, but I agreed to come over in the afternoon.

We walked back home, going slower; it was half past ten when we got back. "A father has an easy time, being proud of his son," Dad said after we'd been walking for a ways. "I've always been proud of you, Tom; but never more than right now." He waved behind us. "That was a kind, wonderful, decent thing to do. Mary didn't say much, but it was pretty obvious he attacked her as a woman."

"Yes."

"There's nothing like a sixteen year old to buck up a woman's spirits," he said with a smile.

"That's pretty much what Mom and Kim said too." I was a little smug.

"Don't get cocky, boy! You're doing fine being yourself; get smug and you won't be able to keep your eye on the ball. Lose track of this ball, and it could have serious consequences for all sorts of people."

"I'm sorry."

"Like I said before, I'm jealous. Kim brings home a stray kitten; Leslie brings them home and now you. Three at once! Awesome!"

"It's not something I set out to do."

"I know."

We went inside and everyone was sitting in the family room, reading. Dad explained where we'd been, what we'd done, leaving out a lot of the unnecessary details, like telling everyone I'd slept with Mary.

Afterwards, I got a big hug from Mom, JR and Jenny, before going up to my room to see if I could catch up on a little sleep. After a bit, JR and Jenny both joined me, cuddling up to me. It was much easier this time to sleep; and I did just that.

Much later, Mom shook my by the shoulder. "Phone, Tom. A girl."

She handed me the portable, and I said hello.

"Tom, this is Sue Ellen."

I blinked in astonishment, never ever had I imagined Sue Ellen calling me. I'd been expecting Mary or Shannon.

"Good afternoon, Sue Ellen," I said, almost gargling in disbelief. I saw JR sit up, perk up. Down girl!

"Could I come over and talk to you?" she asked.

"Half an hour?" I said, not knowing what else to do. I knew Tony's birthday was in August, Sue Ellen wasn't likely to be planning a surprise party!

"Sure. Thanks, Tom, I appreciate this."

"Sue Ellen, Tony's girl friend, wants to come by and talk," I told Mom when I hung up.

"Your dad and I were thinking about going over to Baskin-Robbins for some ice cream, after you got up. Now, it's getting late, I don't want to spoil appetites for dinner."

"I don't know how long Sue Ellen wants to talk; why don't you go without me, and if it's not long, I'll join you."

Mom nodded and I went and got a shower, was downstairs when Sue Ellen came to the door.

"Could we walk?" she asked, her voice pitched a little low.

Not low enough, I thought, for my dad not to overhear, and give me a sardonic grin. Well, I was the one who'd said I should do more walking.

"Sure." I went out, and we walked much slower than I did with Dad.

"Tony's really fucked up," she said after a second.

"Roger?" I asked, curious and concerned.

"No."

"You and JR?" I asked nervously, but she laughed.

"Tony has his own little escapades, I have mine. Someday, I'll tell you about life as a cheerleader and why I quit."

"Not for me!" I said with a laugh, "How is Tony messed up?"

"The coach called him this morning; Tony tested positive for steroids. They're going to suspend him from the team."

"That's not good." Tony doing drugs? Almost, but not quite, unbelievable.

She made a little gesture of dismissal; "It's just bull shit, like who's playing football in March?" That was true! "He can reapply in three months, get right back on. It's all fixed; they do it all the time.

"No, Tony's father flipped out. His dad wants to kick Tony out; that, at the least, he's going to be grounded. No football next year, no Sue Ellen this year. No kid of his, he told Tony, is going to be a druggie."

"Then my old man got into it with his old man; told him Tony could move in with me, might as well, since he and I have been doing it since forever." She shook her head in amazement. "Would you believe Tony's goofball dad never even noticed we were going steady? I was just the 'tramp next door.' My dad punched out Tony's dad, who said he was going to get his gun. We all beat a hasty retreat, then he came banging on our front door.

"The cops came, and busted Tony's dad." Sue Ellen sighed, "What a bunch of fuck ups!"

"Who?" I asked innocently.

"Tony, for not handling his dad better, his dad for being such a moron, my dad for being a fuck up who thinks he can solve any problem with a good swift punch in the face, me for living with these jerk balls. Everyone. Jeez! This is going to be like the Capulets and the McCoys."

I didn't think that was right, but didn't have the courage to correct her right then, either.

"I'm not sure what I can do to help," I said carefully.

"Help? God, we're beyond help! I just wanted to come over and talk to someone whose head I didn't want to rip off. Someone who will nod, say meaningless bull shit trying to make me feel better."

I laughed, and she looked at me. "What's funny?"

"Tom Ferguson giving advice; pretty soon, I'll be able to take over for Dear Abbie."

"Better not be Dear Blabbie," she said with a growl.

"Sue Ellen, when have I ever talked to you about anything before? Have you ever heard Tony talk about my blabbermouth?" I shook my head. "My lips, Sue Ellen, are sealed." I zipped my lip, figuratively speaking.

"Janey Sussman told me once, the best lovers are the shy, quiet ones, who think a lot about it, before they do it for the first time. Guys like Tony, she told me, never learn any technique; it's 'let's get it on, baby!' and roll around grunting and moaning. Not that I don't like that, mind you, but it's getting kinda old." She looked at me. "Bet you'd be even better than Joanna, in bed."

"Ah, I've got enough complications, just now," I told her.

"What, Marsha, Tony's queer cousin? Shannon 'Hi, let's fuck!' Leary? And Shannon's mother? That last, by the way, was cool. Marsha was cool too. She still had a big shit-eating grin on her face when she got back from Sedona. Like Janey said, you shy guys spend a whole lot more time thinking about what you're going to do in one month, than guys like Tony will spend in their entire lives."

"Really, I mean it," I said, which brought a gale of laughter.

"Tell me true, you never looked at these and wondered what it would be like?" She gestured at her breasts; easily an order of magnitude larger than Marsha's.

"I looked at them, then considered Tony and decided how much better life is, my head screwed on where it should be, rather than unscrewed and shoved up my ass." Why was it, I wondered, that I could cuss when I was with Tony and Sue Ellen, and I couldn't at any other time?

Sue Ellen smiled. "I guess." She waved around us. "It would really gross people out, you and I, doing it here in the middle of the sidewalk."

"Not going to happen," I told her.

Sue Ellen laughed again, "Sure, Tom. Sure." She flounced her breasts. "You're not watching now, right?"

"Sue Ellen, I'm a guy. I have hormones. You're a girl; that gets the hormones going." I glanced at her breasts; no doubt about it, they got the hormones flowing in buckets!

She grinned sardonically, but I shook my head. "You're right, I've spent a lot of time thinking about it. More so than you think, particularly in the last few days."

We took a few more steps, and then we stopped because Sue Ellen reached out and took my arm, tugged on it. "Tom." I looked at her. "You're really a decent guy, aren't you?"

"I try to be," I told her.

"Tony would never believe I offered and you declined." She laughed. "You know what, Tom?" I hadn't a clue, and shook my head. "Tony's wrong; always has been. You too, in your own way. Girls like me, we know what we want, we're willing to pay the price. We look at guys like you, and secretly wish it was guys like you who wanted us, instead of guys like Tony. Only thing we understand, I think, is lust. Ours and theirs." She looked at me. "You know what I mean, don't you?"

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