And it just seemed possible that Bill might have the access codes that unlocked those curtained windows and shuttered doors. Which is how she found he...self holding his hand in a suburban cul de sac as electronic doorbell chimes pealed behind a stained-glass decorated PVC door. Inside was as her imagination prescribed; bright-lit, fussy and comfortable, the furnishings and its residents high street cheap and styleless. There were six of them, eight if you included Bill and herself, all. He went out in the garden and pondered. Suddenly he got what he wanted. He called the gardener(Anoop) and the driver(Rahim) on phone and asked them to reach the house immediately. They arrived within minutes with local alcoholic drink. They drank to their fill. Then Sultan told them what happened with him in the house with his Gayu. All of them became hot and hard hearing that and the effect of alcohol was drawing on them too.They urged Sultan to allow them to fuck her too, “Sultan Bahi let us. At any rate, she asked if I'd accompany her to the party; otherwise, she wasn't going to go. I figured "What The Hey" so said yes. We got together and drove to the party. Susie, my "date," had dressed for the holidays - all shimmery and sparkly. 50 years old, she was a classic, classy dresser. I felt good about being with her. The top she wore provided an ample, but not slutty, view of her excellent cleavage. I complimented her on her appearance, and she responded with "Wow, I don't hear that. Can I be of service?” Abby’s hands shook. Her body shook. She asked herself unequivocally what the hell she was doing there. She wondered about John—had one of the other residents called an ambulance? Would the Police turn up here for her? A beat hung between them and she felt him burning into her with dark eyes. With shaking hands she handed over the black card and he studied it for a beat and then when it landed he took it and said, “ah.” Her throat felt dry. She could feel the eyes of the.