Being the Chameleon inherent in my persona, I arrange with the coordinator of the event to pose as a waiter.About two dozen round tables fill the even... room where the affair is being held. I flit about dressed in a white waiters coat appearing as if I am actually working. The room is dimly lit as everyone focuses on an elderly gentleman with white hair speaking from a spot lit dais in the front of the room. The crowd giggles as he spouts one-liners about business and selling, it's all very. Sarah had come back down in her gown and made some excuses about checking on Misty before she went to bed. She had not found the keys and that I should come inside. They lock both garage doors at night and even the kitchen door. The only way out was through the front door. So she made me take my shoes off and slunk me past the living room and sent me to hide in her room.I hid under her bed and waited. She had a shower, she chatted with her parents – I swear to this day she was doing it. I didn’t mind. It meant my futa-daughters were having children over there. They were all volunteers, finding men they felt would make good partners, and then sharing the man’s wives as their lovers.However, the fundamentalist hated it.“Ah, Becky,” King Njam said when he appeared on my screen. “How good it is to see you.”“And you, Your Majesty,” I said, smiling.The affable king waved a hand before his face. “Please, please, Njam. We are friend, no?”“Always friends,” I said. “How are your. Dressed in a white tank top and loose sky blue workout shorts, she had her straight, black hair pulled back into a ponytail. Mike had never been attracted to black women, merely out of personal preference, but he could definitely appreciate that she was quite a good-looking woman. Slim and athletic, her light black skin and warm eyes easily helped her appear younger than the late thirties she actually was.Mike gently hugged her back. “I’m doin’ pretty good, Sandra. What’s got you so excited.