On the day, my friend from the club came to pick me up, he said I might need a lift home and it would be better if my car was not left at the club.I w...s already dressed, ready for my fun night, with a coat over the top to keep it hidden.When we got to the club, a few of the guys were already there, drinking at the bar. We went over to join them, as more folk came in. To my surprise, it was not only guys, some of them had their girlfriends as well. This turned me on, to think they would be. He was glad the tried though.Megan knew 'Dance With The Guitar Man' and I played the guitar. She got her sister and the rest to accompany her. When we finished I said to Roberta sing 'I Will Survive' the way Diana Ross sang it.Megan went back to the drums while I played guitar and Sandra was again at the piano. She was shocked because this was her favourite singer. She knew all of her songs and practised where she knew there was nobody home or in private in a low voice. Her voice was good and. She placed her pyjama shorts and camisole top out neatly on the bed before sliding her woollen sweater up over her head. As she stood, she glanced at the mirror, pleased with her soft pale-skinned 34c chest, but still look at her slim waist. Staring in the mirror, Amy once more heard the click of Matt's door, swiftly followed by his call once again. This time, though, it sounded a little more sinister."Amy?" the voice bounced towards her, before a rapid knocking on her bedroom door told her. It was hard not to wonder if some sort of strange, but implacable form of racial 'justice', was starting to take place. If this was so, then perhaps the most surprising thing of all was that the tool for this form of justice resided inside the testicles of African men like me!I didn't dwell on this all that much. Rather, I eagerly anticipated yet another opportunity to inseminate yet another European female's womb. It struck me as very intriguing that, though I would likely never have a chance.