It seemed to go on forever and all through I continued to lavish attention on her. Her body didn’t slump, it slowly descended as if her orgasm was d...iminishing rather than ending, then she bucked again and I knew a second had erupted. It was less violent but her shuddering explained all to me. I eased off and gently licked her clean. Her breathing calmed and her body relaxed. I didn’t stop though because now I was enjoying her simply for myself: the smell, the taste, the moistness. Emily’s hands. My problem, of course was, that I knew what a little evil cunt bitch she was. I knew she could inflict pain. She wasn't clever or particularly creative — usually. Every once in a while she'd think of something new and I'd be sore for a week — but really she was consistent. Even then, we'd been broken up almost a full year and she still dug her nails into me every chance she got. Every dance class, I went home with blue balls. Hell, blue-black balls.Brandon grew a pair at school and although on. It was hard to explain that in a TV show’s dialog.In the script I was working on Jarrett verbalized it to one of his nerds. For my purpose I renamed him Nerd one, he was the black male, and nerd two was the female. Jarrett couldn’t do that in the new world of correctness, but I sure as hell could. As long as I gave instructions for the typist to look up their names it was likely I wouldn’t have to answer for it.Jarrett assigned the research of the incident in the jail to the mild mannered black. Still, I punched 9 and took two flights of stairs down to 716.The lock took under 30 seconds, a breeze.I had known what to expect from the floor plans provided by Cochran Realty. Rowley had rented a studio, about 450 square feet. Essentially one big room with an enclosed bath along the rear wall. Next to the small Pullman kitchen.A floor lamp I recognized from West Elm provided the only light, but it was plenty. Rowley’s blue drapes were drawn closed on the three windows facing 18th Street.The.