Chapter Fourteen
Switching on the tiny bedside lamp in the spare-room his wife forced him to occupy, Robin Beswick’s watch told him it was still only 10.15.
He slumped back onto the thin mattress of his cot with a sigh and gazed up at the ceiling dispiritedly. Already, he had been in the little room since 7.30 and the arrival of…
The handsome middle-aged man winced, unable to bring himself to even think the name of the abomination who was probably inserting its fat black d**k into his wife’s bald cunt at that moment. The same way he/she had inserted it into his own…
A sob of self-pity surged up from his throat for the life he had known and was now gone; not sure who he hated most. Was it the black family whose youngest daughter he had r***d – though he still had no recollection of the
