CHAPTER TWELVE
When Greg Tabey showed up at the house on Charles Avenue he didn't know exactly what kind of a w***e he really wanted. But he did know this: he wanted one with a soft cunt, with curly hair, with long legs, and with a sense of humor.
"Ah," said the Madam Tess, "of course we have such a one as this. Just wait here." She rushed to the board and buzzed 22. When she came back she found the young customer comfortably seated in the parlour. "Yes, yes, yes," said Tess, cheerful as ever, "she'll be right down in only just one moment." She busied herself going hither and thither with ideas about what kind of man Mr. Tabey was. Tess was always, naturally, concerned about strangers with her girls. "Are you a working man,
Mr. Tabey?" asked Tess.
Tabey, young but able to handle him
