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Young tourist gets fleeced by madam & her girls.
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It was a young after ten when Brian tiptoed through the dark hotel room to the foot of his parents' bed. "Dad." Too hot girls pussy He cleared his throat and said, "Dad."
His mother stirred. "Huh?"
"I'm going for a walk."
"What?"
"You said I could go for a walk around the French Quarter if I was packed and ready to go. I am."
His mother said, "I don't think so. It isn't safe."
"You said I could."
"Your father said you could. I say you can't."
His father said, "For God's sake, it's a Monday morning, not Mardi Gras." His dad looked at him. "Be back by noon. I mean it."
"I will!" He grabbed his wallet and headed for the door.
"Leave your wallet," his mother said. "Put your money in your sock so pickpockets don't get it.
"Pickpockets?" Brian asked.
"Jesus Christ," his exasperated father said. "How much money do you have?"
"A hundred and forty hot girls sex me see," his mother said, and made him count out the seven twenties.
His father said, "Come back with all of it. Don't go spending it on junk."
"I might stop and get some beignets."
"Fine. But that's it. And back by noon."
"Can I take the camera?"
His dad sighed. "OK."
He trotted through the door and it slid shut and there was silence, blessed silence.
He was free.
He hot girls stripping down the stairs and through the lobby and was on Rampart Street in fifteen seconds. Already the air was heavy and damp and he knew it would be another scorcher. But who cared about that now? He was on his own, a man about town, and what a town! New Orleans, the Big Easy. |
