Tad found it. It was a find.
“What a lovely vase,” Linda murmured.
“It’s a spittoon, actually,” Tad said.
“Yes. It’s a spittoon and I’m going to spit quality tobacco into it and whatever else I don’t want in my mouth for very long. Blood. Piss. Cum. Bad beer. Terrible whiskey. Pubic hairs.”

Linda was insulted and repulsed but Ellen was charmed, intrigued, stimulated beyond belief. She smiled, imagining Tad’s tongue in her mouth.