At this Angela tries to stand up again, but Marc grab ahold of her throat with both hands and forces her onto the floor beside the couch. His lips are small, but pouty and he has a small, slightly crooked nose. Sex Marc lays the box beside Angela and flips the lid off and reaches inside. Angela’s lower stomach starts turning and rumbling, confused about the sensations she’s feeling. The parking lights shine down on a full lot, and the lights of the club give an aura of impatience to the fifty or sixty people lined up to get inside. She waves to him as she walks inside; he nods and winks; though its dark and he’s wearing sunglasses, so it’s a wasted gesture. Angela pauses to look at herself in the mirror, then they leave six-oh-nine. He sets to cutting Angela’s clothes off as she writhes and tries to struggle from. He leans over and starts licking on her left nipple. It’s intoxicating. The line is not for her, and hasn’t been since she showed a bit of affection to the bouncer a few weeks ago. “I’m Angela.” she tells him. She checks her eyes, lips, and hair in the rear view mirror before she tugs on the handle and kicks open the car door. He takes his bloody and and reaches
