Lorence's enormous body was cuddling Amalia's tiny one. He was fast asleep, and Amalia's insides were burning. She was cursing the man for making her feel like a whore. She is already eighty-seven years old and having sex with a twenty-eight-year-old politician in Borres. She felt stupid and a failure. She sighed and tried to move the guy's arm that was imprisoning her. She carefully pulled her dress and lingerie. Then she put on her clothes quietly, carried her shoes, and tiptoed towards the door. She broke her hip when he was tossing her body earlier. She thought her scream was of delight. It made him even more turned on.
"Amie, you can go out of that door but you can't get past the gate."
Lorence chuckled, stood up, and pulled her back to the bed.
"Besides, it's three o'clock in the morning. A lady like you shouldn't be out in the streets."
