"Kevin snapped, said that conversation was closed. Ooops! Needless to say, it was a quiet dinner. We dropped off Libby and Ben at their house and, when we got home, I went to bed and Kevin watched television. Nothing unusual, there either.What was unusual, a few days later, I got a call from Ben. “Hi Shelby, you still interested in your question?"“Oh, hey Ben,” I said, a little surprised that he was calling but mainly because of the topic. I quickly recovered. “Hmm… sure I am, you know me." Okay, so why don't you come over and find out for yourself?”Wow, talk about direct! ”Ben, what are you talking about?" Shelby, you know I like you a lot. Libby knows it, too. Why do you think she got so mad?" He chuckled down the line. "She’s afraid I might show you.”"Guess you’re proving her right, huh?”"Come on, you don't love Kevin, you haven't for a long time. He treats you like crap. Hey, only you and I will ever know about this." Let me think about it, Ben. Give me a few days. It’s all a bit. If I wanted privacy there was a two-way mirror that I could draw down to cut me off from prying eyes. But I never wanted privacy – in fact I always hoped that other fellas on the opposite side of the area were training their binoculars on my booth.The smell was more like disgustingly sweaty feet and armpits now and it produced, in me at least, a sudden and empowering surge of violence. I told the young sailor whore-boy I’d picked and the suck-and-fuck whore to get the screaming exhibit’s legs apart – fucking quick – yank them wide open – and I kicked the cunt’s cunt viciously several times, then I slapped it and punched it hard in the face until I’d taken the edge off.It was an absolute necessity to be that suddenly and totally violent after the build up provided by the stinks - and my own imagination - in the approach. The organisers knew this and quite often the screaming exhibit was destroyed in the first few minutes of the client entering the booth – this was good for business as.
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