Sorry, I’m obsessed with The Hunger Games. The chatter in the room was substantial, so I assumed it safe to talk openly with him without inquisitive ears joining our banter.“My mom died when I was five, in a car accident. I was in the car, but I only broke rib. I have these horrible scars on my back where the glass shattered onto me. Apparently they’ll never go away. My dad turned to drink, started abusing me a lot.”, I didn’t mention it still happened now, I couldn’t trust him yet, “I’ve had to fend for myself for a while, but I’ve pulled through. We move states a lot because the police are after him. I would turn him in for my safety, but I’d have nowhere to go.” Emotion didn’t break into my voice once, and I was silently proud of myself. The whole explanation had really been my way of crying out to him that I needed someone to love me. Little did I know, he got the jest well. The toll of the bell, pitchy as it is, was the most wondrous noise to hear, and everyone practically leapt. “What the fuck is this show-tune music you got on. You going queer on us?” I heard from the other side of the deck. “All in good time my friend, all in good time” was all I sneered back. I opened a beer, checked my watch and sat back for the show to begin. Knowing Tina like I do, I was sure that she would not disappoint and make sure that she gave us all a good show. Sure enough, it was right at ten when I saw the headlights turn into the driveway and then soft footsteps on the walkway. The guys hooted and hollered as Tina made her way up the stairs. I damn near popped my eyes out when I saw her as well. She was dressed to kill in a skin tight black lycra body skirt and carrying a small bag. Her ample tits were straining to bust loose of the thin material and her legs ran up and made a great ass of themselves. I rolled my tongue back into my mouth and jumped up to greet her. As I gave her a quick peck on the cheek, she handed me her bag and told me not to put it too far as she will.
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