“I got what you want, girl.”

“The fuck you say.”

He held up a ticket to tonight's Concert.

Normally, I wouldn’t piss on Vinnie, but I'm a Swiftie and I had to have that ticket.

“Whadda ya want?”

Vinnie and his side boys grinned.

“All three holes, for me, Marco, and Joey, as many times as we want ’em, right here, right now.”

And he flicked the ticket.

My pulse must have counted fifty, then I unbuttoned my blouse.

“You’re on,” I said, snatching the ticket.

“I just hope the antibiotics have killed off the clap…”