There were a lot of looks and the waitresses made the normal comments about being pregnant until…they realized I wasn’t a GG. Then, it became funn... – in a good way. I kept the act going; most of the other diners had no idea. To them I was a white bitch with a black daddy, a pretty pregnant little white bitch. I’m five feet six inches tall, he was six-one, you get the picture.The first party was with friends; my ‘costume’ was not only very original but caused a lot of comments. I was corned by. I thought about it and decided to meet him.I had a shower, got changed into a t-shirt and jeans, and headed over.Kev opened the door. He was taller than I had expected, about 5'11" with short brown hair, lovely eyes and was wearing a vest top, shorts, and no shoes or socks. He invited me in with a warm smile.He showed me into the lounge with a three seater sofa, arm chair, and a big flat screen TV, and ushered me to the sofa. I sat and he asked if I wanted a drink. I said a cold drink would be. .." Max. Thomas Max. Sergeant Detective, actually." Yes, well, you see things like this don't normally happen here," said Duplaine. I returned my gaze to the dead blonde strung up like a Christmas turkey on the bondage cross in front of me. Rigor hadn't set in yet and she was still warm to the touch. She had just checked out and if you didn't know better or weren't watching carefully you could mistake her for being asleep. How one could sleep being hung up and spread open for all to see,. Weird, I thought, but atleast it's not gray. It felt a little different in the shower as Ishampooed it. Stronger, but softer. It reminded me of Emily's hair, herthick hair that sometimes whipped me in the face when she was lying ontop of me. Fine, very silky, but also unbelievably healthy and lustrous,like you could knot a battleship rope from it. Emily had the best headof hair I'd ever seen or felt until I washed mine that morning.Well, there were worse things that could happen than to wake up.