“Oh, I am your slut now?” she asked in a husky voice.“Of course, you are,” I said as I kissed her lips.“You are better than your dad. You ar... better than most”, she said.“What the fuck do you mean? How many men have fucked you”, I asked.“I don’t keep count. Should be around 15 or 20”, she said.“You are a fucking bitch.”“Who said I am not a bitch?”, she said as she got on top of me.“Am I better than Ganesh?”, I asked her.“He is just a show-off. He is not good in the bed”, she said while putting. "That will be ?9.50 dear," he replied sliding the cigarettes and lighteracross the counter he ran up the sale and handed me back the change. Islipped the items into my bag and the change back in the purse and walkedaway, first test passed I thought to myself as I got back into the carand pulled out of the petrol station.It was only a few minutes from the petrol station to the school I hadGoogled it on maps a typical in-town school some graffiti covered one ofthe walls as I pulled to a stop.. I grew up in a city where people of African-American, Asian, Hispanic or Native American descent made up half of the total population. A city which has been Black Police Chiefs, Latino mayors, African-American female State Representatives and openly gay Congressmen. Boston is one of the most diverse and progressive cities in the United States of America. And I am proud to call it home. That's why this confession is so difficult.I am fifty four years old, and recently divorced. I was married to. She got remunerated well for these erotic tales. The stories were slightly risqué but never blatantly pornographic. The female readers, however, thrived on Merinda’s heady descriptions of her overtly masculine hero’s. Tons of pussy juice spilled, as her fan club salivated over her animalistic, supreme alpha men.On one of her annual holidays, Merinda found a heavenly enclave in a remote village that was inland from the coastline. On an impulse that day, she decided to buy a small home that was.