CHAPTER EIGHT
Among the most interesting clients of the house on Charles Avenue were the occasional fathers and sons. Madam Tess always showed defferential treatment for such relatives, for the father no doubt was nervous that his young son would not perform, and the son, wondering all about the matter of s*x anyhow, was worried about numerous things: the cunt, the tit, the suck, the f**k itself.
So Madam Tess, when one Wednesday afternoon she espied such a duo approaching the steps to the Charles Avenue house, made haste to warn the others in the house that the next trick up was a special one, like a birthday party. She greeted the guests herself, with a
warm hug for the father, Dave Gadder, and his son, the eighteen year old Tommy.
"It's time, Tess," said Dave. "He's got to be findin
