And with that, our minds interlock. And I reveal my smile to you in return. You stand more upright, and gesture for me to disrobe. It's warm. The win...ow is open, and a cooling breeze gusts in. There is a profound stillness in the room as I slip off my simple summer dress. There's nothing underneath. I fold it gently, carefully and place it on the foot of the bed. You watch my every movement. Not commenting. Not critical. I stand next to the bed. My gaze still lowered, and my long black hair. Flat out took them out. Barack Obama, forty-fourth President of the United States of America was once the only Black male member of the United States Senate. Did he let that stop him? Nope. He worked hard and beat the rich White guys and the rich White chicks, those born with gold spoons in their mouths, at their own game. America fell in love with him because he was smart, hard-working and friendly. The kind of leader who could inspire a nation made up mostly of simple people working hard to. You are my disciple. You are mine. I own you.’ There was some fidgeting around her hair, some stickers of electrodes were attached to her forehead. She was mainly focused on his fingers, so close to her skin, grazing her skin once in a while. A magical feeling, being touched by the divine. When the electrodes turned on there went a shockwave through her brain, it was confusing, but before she had a chance to tune in with the world around her, with the voice, with the lights, with her body,. This nymph was truly a Greek goddess. The male spent a minute or so protesting her sudden nudity, and paled when she sought to help him in removing his own garments. But she kept at it, and soon she was unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it from his shoulders. They she went after his trousers, releasing his belt, and allowing the trouser to fall to his feet. He was looking around in fear of being caught in a most compromising position. I held my place, hopeful that the shrubbery I stood behind.