Seriously. The last thing I want to do is attract MORE attention from that racist bastard Chief of Police. Hell, he wouldn’t even take the word of w...ite kids because they were my friends, which made anything they said suspect.”“That stinks. Did you get any sleep?”“No. I’m going to crash. Amy is coming by later.”“Carter and Larry?”“I’m sure they went to bed, too.”“I’m sorry.”“For what? If I blame you ‘cause you’re white it’s the same as that cracker thinking I’m guilty because I’m black.”“OK.. He leaned as far forward as possible so he could see clearly down the path and was decidedly anxious but even more excited. I waited further back in the private gym lobby, my gun also at the ready. I was completley focused and wasn't nervous. I'd done it all before. After spying her pool-side in her bathing suit, we had stalked the bitch for a week and knew what she was up to. Four days in a row she had picked the front door lock to gain entry to the closed facility. I suppose she. The men were very punctual. They introduced themselves: Omar, the tall black one, Kevin, the youngest of them, slim and blond, and Robert, with blue eyes and a shaved head, who seemed to be in charge. Attending to business first, he handed Brandon the receipt for the credit-card charge. This was really rubbing salt into the wound. Why would he have to pay men from an escort service to have sex with his wife? His wife, who was so beautiful that she turned heads every time they were out in. She pursed her lips, and then reached down on either side of the foot of the massage table. She brought out a couple of worn leather cuffs and quickly and efficiently fastened them to my ankles in their spread position. Then she strode to the head of the table and brought out a chin strap which went into place before I quite figured out what was going on. When she finished buckling my head down, she took some lotion and spread it over her breasts, then leaned over me and dangled them against.