Maybe she did. Maybe she had repressed her sexuality for way too long, always ebbing at the distal frays of her consciousness, now finally resurfacing...at the sight of three long hard cocks before her.The men stood up simultaneously, shedding their dishevelled shorts. They were short and squat, possibly in their 50s, hair matted with dirt and bellies bloated with whatever alcohol they had scavenged before dark. Elaine could see the muck in their pubic hair and smell the unbathed stench of their. Two weeks thereafter, just before closing time a hunky man walked into my store. It took me a few seconds before I realized that it was Jarrod, the ‘salad dressing’ guy. Jarrod then walked around the store complimenting me about the stock that I had on offer.After a short while, he asked, “Where do you publish your stories?”“Excuse me?” I queried.“Your short stories… do you publish them anywhere?” he enquired.“Ummm… well… actually…” I uncomfortably babbled before he interrupted me.“Don’t be so. More

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