This was the first I had heard of it, though I had seen asimilar Queen of Spades symbol for white women owned by black men.I was a bit skeptical, yet ...opeful. I did a web search for Jack of Spadesand found the emblem we discussed, along with some discussion of what itmeant.I downloaded the emblem and made a card that would fit in my shirt pocket,with the about three inches sticking out of the pocket, clearly displayingthe Jack of Spades.Now to try it out. I needed to find a place where I would. She pulled the transparent bikini bra from the bag and slipped into it. Her erect nipples were still plainly visible and the car in front of us rapidly slowed down. The driver had gotten a peek and wanted to see more; I almost rear-ended his car. The dude eased over to the right and waited until I got even with him, then yelled something out the window. Tricia turned and waved at him, and I sped up and passed him.The next vehicle up was a construction truck, and from his seat, the driver got a. "Why don't you sit down and tell me what bothering you." I had gone too far, I had slipped into Fletcher speak. This was not my office and he wasn't a patient. He wasn't going for it anyway."Don't play stupid with me. He's got it here somewhere. He's either got the money or the white lady." He looked around, took a step toward me, then backed off. He turned and wheeled for the bedroom. I should have been incensed at his lack of respect for my privacy. I should have followed him into. To see my piss drain out of my own hard cock, as I lay on my back is rather extraordinary. It is met but the feeling of the warmth it delivers as it lands on my skin. It pools slightly and then runs down and around my chest. Tickling the skin on the side of my body. I play with it a bit, slow it down, aiming for my belly button. Hole in One. I aim for my nipples. Move my hips abit to assist with the trajectory. That will take some practice. Continuing to not to get my face, it does not take.