He was coloured, probably Caribbean. This part of London had its share, especially on carnival day.When he went to get a refill at the bar, I went too... I'd timed it that way, pacing my drink with his. I stood next to him waiting my turn, listening to the rich inflection in his voice when he spoke to the barmaid, the only female in the joint, apart from Frank's missus.We didn't speak, but eyed each other's reflection in the mirror behind the bar. He had on a white shirt with the cuffs turned. She took me aside."It appears you've decided to let him be himself," she said discretely. "Do you want a regular boy's haircut?" He's always been himself, Priscilla," I politely disagreed. "Whetherhe's more comfortable as a boy or a girl is what we've been trying todecide. For the time being, he's a boy and I want him to look like one.You suggested a unisex style. I'd like that please." Of course, Mrs. McCarthy. He'll either look like a very boyish girl ora very girlish boy, depending on. After I showered, she called me. She asked if I was ready for my surprise. I said yes, eagerly expecting some kinky sex with her. Suddenly there was a heavy knock at the door. I looked out the peephole and saw a young guy waiting. I asked her what was going on and she said that he was my surprise. Confused, I asked her why she would send a guy to my hotel. She explained that her biggest kink was bi-men fucking. She said that she'd let me do anything that I want with her (and anyone else) when I. I slowly let the handle return to its normal position and let go, I looked down at my feet, taking in my complete nudity noting my nipples were sticking out and rigid, deep red in color, engorged with hot blood now coursing through my body, my clothes discarded on the bathroom floor, topped with my lacy brassiere and thongish panties, soaked with my perspirations build during the table conversations, the three men egged by my drunk husband, sizing me up as he spoke disparagingly of me and my.