I. Jake Gnarley was dead. Since her lover’s passing, Ellen was despondent. So much so, that Ellen Easier Screw no longer fucked anyone. It was December 16, the eve of the first day of Saturnalia. As Ellen walked the bustling streets of London, she was greeted merrily where e’re she strode. A handsome young man flashed her. He wore not a stitch beneath his greatcoat, and his cock grew longer by the moment. “A fuck, my good...