Able to feel it he wanted to masturbate. The desire disgusted him. Furthermore his disgust disgusted him. She wasn't holy he assured himself as he sat down to eat his TV dinner. Just a tramp on the bum. To Las Vegas yet. He found himself wishing that he could view the whole incident with Magliore's jaundiced eye and that disgusted him most of all. Later that night he got drunk in spite of all his good intentions and around ten o'clock the familiar maudlin urge to call Mary rose up in him. He masturbated... read more
