“Look, I don’t want to offend you, but maybe there’s a way I can pay you for helping me that doesn’t involve money.”“What do you mean?” ... asked, suspecting that I knew very well. At least I was hoping I knew.“Well,” she said cautiously, “maybe I could give you a handjob.” She looked ready to back off and apologize if I reacted badly.I smiled. “I think that would be a fair trade!”Roach looked relieved. “I don’t usually offer to jerk off every man I meet, but you seem like a nice guy and I owe. Our story starts, as said before, in America. In a small diner called Big Joes, or Big Johns or big something with a J, the name isn’t important to the story. Paul was sitting down to a full breakfast: 3 eggs, 5 rashers of bacon, some grits and 2 slices of toast. The eggs were sunny side up and the bacon was just crspy enough to give a crunch without tasting burnt…..yes those details of the food were important in the story…..food is always important in any story….infact I would rather read. More

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