Her white skin was clear as glass, unblemished by adolescent pimples. It was perfect in color and texture; white as porcelain china. She was a virgin, he thought as he offered her a ride. When she accepted, he nearly went through the roof. She wanted something else from him. Janice no more needed a ride than she needed the dime to make the telephone call. And now as he drove down the nearly deserted boulevard, his heart pounding like a jackhammer, he wondered how such a find could happen to him, Tim Morgan, of all people.

Well, he wouldn't be lucky much longer unless he found a place to fuck this bitch. Janet was squirming on the front seat, crossing her legs nervously and breathing hard through her mouth. He watched her blouse rise and fall, enchanted with her small breasts with the hard nipples, then looked up just in time to see the truck run the red light and swerve out of the way.

"Bastard!" Morgan shouted, shaking his fist. He had to get off the road in a hurry or risk getting killed, risk losing this beautiful teenage bitch to old man Death. Ahead, a few blocks down, flashed a green neon sign. "Happy Heaven" the slender ribbons of neon read. "Five Bucks". It was just the place and exactly the right price for Morgan's wallet. He gunned the accelerator and the Buick roared down the weary asphalt pavement toward the neon sign and the exquisite pleasure that waited for him.

Janet stayed in the car while Morgan went inside to register. She pulled the sun visor down to hide her face. It was a silly gesture. The Happy Heaven motels of the world didn't care who patronized their rooms as long as they were paid for. She wondered what her father would say if he saw his daughter walking into a motel room with a man twice her age.

He wouldn't find out. Her father at that moment was in California looking for a house. And her mother was passed out on the couch. Janet had thrown the empty pint bottle of Vodka into the trash and snapped off Johnny Carson on the television. Her mother hadn't moved a muscle.