Chapter 25

A naked Isaiah stood between David’s legs at the base of the bed, a muscular wall at six-five. He held David’s bent knees, thrusting inside my employer. His black pants were crumpled at his ankles. Nearby, also on the floor, lay his shirt. Isaiah’s woven and Quaker hat was tilted to the right on his head, possibly askew because of his lovemaking to David. He immediately stopped thrusting his center against David’s upon my invasion; the sound of metal and wood grinding had seized. Isaiah’s bulbous and pink-white bottom glowed at me.

David left out a sharp, “Oh my God,” possibly out of surprise of my interruption more than the Mennonite’s compressed size inside his bottom.