"You're such a wonderful lover, John," purred Amber as she neared her release."You aren't so bad, yourself," said John. "Definitely one of the better ...nes."The comment stung Amber, even though she would have to give John a similar response with all the men she had in her life. She didn't want to think of John as being like her. She didn't like being like her, with a different man every night. She liked the possibility of coming home to the same man for once. She liked the possibility of coming. "Well he is originally from Bahrain and he had lived here in Libya during the war. From what I heard, he was once a religious teacher, preaching death to the west and how western women were all whores. I also heard he is very corrupt, has a weak memory and enjoys wasting his billions on whores and other kind of things. As for why he came here, was because he would be safe here, in case Iran had invaded his country. From what I heard he thought Libya was far enough to survive a successful Shiite. She set down a tray with a glass of orange juice and three aspirins on it."You look like you could use this, Sir," she said, grinning at him. "You must have really tied on a good one after you left my house last night."Rick managed to grin back weakly. He picked up the aspirins and swallowed them quickly, tossing down the glass of orange juice as a chaser. Then he winced. He had a classic hangover this morning."Just buzz if you need me," Paula offered. She went out quietly, but the shutting of. It was all the fault of that low-life of a husband. When they had got married they had both kept on working so that they could buy their dream home in the leafy suburbs. She had a well-paid job as a physiotherapist at the large hospital in a nearby city, but when they eventually decided they could afford to have children, she retired from her senior post to become a full-time mother. She thought that everything was okay until the day he buggered off to live with his floozie in a loft apartment.