Miss Lovely's BF is digging for shit in the closet. Lookin for stripper shoes to wear to court.(!) The only place you find more whores than church is the copshop -- employees not suckers.
Finds a vibrator, with batteries. What took him so fucking long?
His happiest discovery was a large bag of condoms... I mean a shitload of condoms... Several years supply for most guys... But they were not for him... They were for Miss Lovely...
"I got these mostly from Planned Parenthood," he smiles a shit-eating grin. That must be fun, helping your girl get banged by an infinite supply of men. Or soul destroying. Good to see $1-billion taxdollars buying rubbers for underage hookers.
"What's that, a weeks supply for you?" I inquire.
"No...a couple of months." She smiles. Note to self, HAVE MORE SEX!!!!!!!!!!!
"She'd only work one or two times a day, usually," he brags.
"Mostly regulars." She grabs a large box, "Vanilla, my favorite! That's from the Motel Sex."
"Hey, that's where we met! Our anniversary is coming up," I enthuse.
"Good times at the Six." Says BF...
She laughes her most-beautiful little girl giggle. Soul inspiring... Man destroying... I cry inside, a little. Is she really an ex-callgirl? I hope so...even if it means an end to her and me?
Had dinner later that night at her Daddy's house, BF not allowed. Mending fences, healing wounds, breaking programming...? Stepmom provides a warning against her tendency for psychopathic destruction... Played cards (threw a few hands to Miss Lovely), ping pong (extra bonus for letting little sister win), meatloaf with cake... He wants his baby girl back... Can I give him that? Does she want that? Gave him the scoop on her multiple personalities and childhood rapefest that his ex forgot to tell him about. Maybe that explains why his plane tickets arrived sans daughter for his annual non-visitation?
While snooping around daddy's house looking at cute family photos of little Miss Lovely, I stumble across her abandoned mail. I make sure to inform her of this official correspondence. When we get back home she remembers that court date...TOMORROW. Arrest warrant if court costs not paid immediately... $500...
We go to courts and I pony up for my lil friend. Protecting her from psycho Big Brother, and from Daddy's disappointment, as best I can. Nobody else will...
On the drive home from the jailhouse, I reach over to hold her hand. She pulls away. There's a part of the story I'm leaving out...did you care?
I waive my Fifth Amendment right to STFU. "What am I to you, just a stupid customer?"
Softly she replies, "No, a friend." Strippers and callgirls usually define "friend" as "guy I'm fucking, for money." Except in this case, very little fucking at the end of pregnancy, for safety reasons. And a whole lot of money. Close to half a million dollars...???!!!
"What am I compared to BF?"
"Well, you're moving up..."
To be cuntinued...