.
assholes as they were, DeShawn felt sorry for them. There was no reality whatsoever in which he could picture Lucy’s husband dicking her down good in any tangible way. When DeShawn looked at Lucy’s husband, he saw an anxiety-ridden homosexual with a hungry booty hole, and it takes one to know one.
Her husband’s panic attacks were infamous (he had upward of three a week), and each time Lucy would come into work disgruntled, highly critical, and pissed at everyone. DeShawn was only a receptionist, so in accordance to natural law Lucy got to fuck with him. For instance, she once explained to DeShawn why the young black teenagers in the area made her uncomfortable; she got robbed by a group of them once. DeShawn didn’t believe this cackling bitch one bit. The ironic part was that, in this gentrified part of town, the black teenager robbing you most likely came from college-educated parents—though DeShawn knew that Lucy’s stuck ass would never see the humor in that. It also left DeShawn wondering, What kid that comes from college-educated parents would rob a sloppy white bitch in sweats? Like, wouldn’t you rob someone who looks like they have a future?
Then there was Lucy’s lil’ gay sidekick, Juan Gomez. Juan was from redneck California too, and he and Lucy would openly bond over their fear of “outsiders.” Once at a Christmas party DeShawn got way too drunk and told Juan about when he was gangbanged by four tourists from Mexico City the night before at the bathhouse.
“EWW! YOU FUCK MEXICANS?!” cried Juan Gomez.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.