I would have been OK if the damn airlines could stick to a schedule. The cell phone rang while I was trying on a pair of sneakers, and suddenly I had ...wo and a half hours to kill. I chose the restaurant because of its famous chicken tenders, free popcorn and big screen TV’s. No tables were available, but I didn’t mind eating at the bar. Ten minutes later, they settled on the stools next to me, sharp khaki camouflage uniforms, maroon berets, two weeks back from Afghanistan. I wasn’t drinking,. I think I got through to him.The next morning I woke up to him on the phone. He was talking to someone about a photo shoot or something. I tried focusing on his voice and just as I could barely make out words he said goodbye, hung up the phone and headed back into the bedroom. "Well some one is all smiles." I said mockingly. "That was Patrick. He's the photographer I was telling you about a few weeks ago. I completely forgot about him being interested in taking some pictures of our next party.". She touched me and we moved towards the stairs. As soon as we entered the room we lay on the bed and got down to some sensual deep french kissing. She was rubbing the outside of my crotch and said she hadn't been fucked for months. I eased her to the edge of the bed and started stroking her thighs under her dress and running my hand over her panties. I loved her in the dress so kissing her thighs I made my way up towards her crotch slipping a tongue inside them before pulling them to one side. Currently on probation under the watch of Mr. Jason Sabian, who is a dear friend of mine, who owes me quite a few favors now that I think about it.’ This fucker had done his homework… it almost made me shiver to wonder if he knew my real name… where I went to school… who I knew. ‘Would be a terrible tragedy if Trevor had to go back, wouldn’t it, Angel?’ Mr. Facelli goaded me to even try speaking a word of this to anybody… ‘Another count of drug possession, and promoting prostitution on top of.