As I woke up on Sunday late morning around 11:30 am still im in my sweet bouquet layered baby doll (nitie) making coffee and doing dishes get my coffe... sit on couch watching TV my cell phone ring one of good all Spanish she male friend (Rosie) who was about to go out back to Mexico her grand ma was sick and she ask me if I can help her with some money as u know on ur worst day only friend you can count on agree to loan her some money and I told her I can bring her money to her place she agree. Once the door is locked Nike jumps out of her seat and starts walking around his office. She looks around his three filing cabinets, and thumbs through the documents and photos on his desk, "What are you doing?" I ask in a shouted whisper. "Shutup!" she says this in the same hushed yell, "I'm looking for something we can mke money off of." I give her a puzzled look, "look, idiot, if he's got to order this fuckin' adapter then it's gonna cost us out the ass. And I dont know about you, but I. They used to make the whole way to the church on their knees. I don't think that will be necessary, but you should make the pilgrimage on your bare feet and dressed in the sinner's garb. It's okay to change here, nobody will see you."Ramon handed me a bundle made of rough sack-cloth. There were two parts, a skirt and something that might be described as a shirt. I took off the tracksuit and trainers and handed them to Ramon. Then I put on the clothes Ramon had called 'sinner's garb'.The skirt. The 38 year old man was a hunk. Most gay men and straight women would find him extremely attractive. His face was chiseled, a small scar made one eyebrow higher then the other. His body was fine, light dustings of hair sprang from the tough male skin. Unlike, Brian, Don was not beautiful. He was sensual, virile, and potent. He was the rough, tough man that dreams are made of. Don was very comfortable with his body. He stood with his arms crossed watching the boy's dance. His powerful tool.