Chapter Eleven
Cecily had her mouth plugged by Delia’s imitation c**k and the Professor had just uncoupled his front side from Jeremy’s backside when the booming voice of Nathanial Thompson’s good buddy, Wilbur Hoskins, blew open the motel door and stepped into the room. The pimp was a large man with skin so white his shaved head glistened and his eyes so cold; they penetrated the glare. A high shine flashed wealth on his shoes and a manicure pared his cuticles and clipped his fingernails. His barreled chest filled out his bright-colored shirt with panache, and his c**k swelled his pant leg with abundance. Adding to other duties, Wilbur’s whores shared time keeping his house in order and his outfits cleaned and pressed.
“Will, my man; got two travelers for you,” said Thompson with an app
