Monique's attention to my breasts is subtle and clever, complementing the rising excitement between my legs. I want it to last for ever but I have no experience of Ty, no idea how long he can maintain his fierce pounding. With each thrust I hear a sound like a grunt but as though it is emerging through clenched lips. Unwilling to risk an anticlimax, I reach down to my clitoris and bring myself to a shattering orgasm.[Sometimes Paul likes me to come at this point in the story, so that he sees me fingering myself to a conclusion at the same time that I am explaining how I imagine it would be with Ty. He then handles himself until he, too, comes. But tonight I shake my head. I have a new idea and I want us both to wait. He is still fondling his penis wrapped in my knickers as I pick up where I left off.]I realise I have underestimated Ty's stamina. His penis still juts proudly, ready now for Monique. At least for the present, I am sated. I take a chair to watch. Wordlessly, Monique. He didn’t know if he was dead. Fuck him. If they could get to the right-of-way, then they had a chance. There were only two of them left following and there were three ways out. You’re a gambler. Thirty three point three percent chance of picking the right answer. Recurring. He got up from his haunches and poked his head up slowly from behind the dumpster. Nothing. Right. Now is the time. ‘Right, we’re nearly there. When I say ‘three’, we’re outta here. Get it?’ The Package looked up and nodded. He couldn’t suck in enough air to speak. Hansen counted down in his head and yelled, ‘Three!’ They took off. His legs pumped hard, but he trained hard. He could keep it up. If he wanted to live. He turned around the corner and into the right of way. It was clear! And he was only thirty metres from the main street. People. Crowds. Safety. He turned around. The Package was making a good fist of it, but there was still some distance to go. He pointed the gun down the alley. The Package ran.
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