Frank’s Inner Woman
Frank’s nuts ached; he had been in and out of at least ten porn parlors around Times Square and had spent upward of $40 on the video peeps. Now he was sitting in a nice cool bar with a martini in front of him deciding if he wanted to do it or not. ‘What the hell.’ He thought and turned the copy of the underground newspaper he had bought to the Transexual/Shemale section and began to read the ads, trying to decide which one to call first. Frank had taken the opportunity of his wife being out of town to visit Manhattan and the porno parlors, telling himself that he wouldn’t visit a shemale prostitute again. But the fever was in him and the martini was lowering his resistance. ‘Of course I was going to …