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The space behind the curtain was no bigger than a closet. There was a clothes rack on our right and a beat-up vanity on our left.Debbie sat me down at the vanity. “Put some lipstick on,” she ordered as she started rummaging through the clothes on the rack.“Debbie ... P ... Please ... I’m ... I can’t be a stripper! I’m only fifteen!” I begged.She ignored me and kept looking through the clothes.I started looking around at what was on the vanity and in the drawer. All the lipsticks were bright red. I"ll think of some way to get even with that lesbian bitch. You'll see." All Kevin could do was thank her for taking all of the heat and said "What can you do to get even with her, Mrs. Estevez?" She just smiled and said "Kevin, after establishing our new relationship, I think it would be appropriate for you to call me Jean, Okay? Let me tell you something about Judy. She goes both ways, if you know what I mean?" Kevin nodded his head in the affirmative. Jean went on, "I sensed her wanting me. Jane took a long hot bath to alleviate some of her injuries. Her internal abrasions from the sharp edges of the rod, the scratches on her skin, her raw nipples and even rawer clitoris and vulva. She had examined the discarded rod from where it lay when she removed it, casting it across the room. The archeologists would have killed her had they known. That mattered little to her. The rod was now a lifeless artifact. Even the traces of her glue job were nowhere in evidence. Perhaps they had been. He kissed her neck gently, once for each of the months he’d abandoned her at home and while went to the bar to drink to forget. He kissed her shoulder for all the times she’d had to come to pick him up from the bar when the bartender called her to say he was too drunk to drive home. He kissed along her collarbone for all the nights she’d helped him into the house and into bed, always putting a bottle of water and an aspirin on the nightstand for him. She gasped into his ear like she understood.
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