She looked at me and seemed to detect my sorrow. Her hand stopped massaging her pussy and reached out and touched my knee. My heightened senses could ...mell the musky odour of her pussy from her fingers.“Yes,” she said, an air of sadness in her voice, “I’m a lesbian. Sorry, if you were expecting more but I’m sure Sylvia can more than make up for that. As well as who knows who else in the future.”“Its fine,” I told her trying to be sincere with my smile, “this is a professional relationship so to. Not a single potential customer could be seen in the street. On entering Talent Spot, all faces from the stage flicked towards them, bright with expectation, then turned back, sinking in disappointment as the dancers resumed their desultory conversations, dancing on with the utmost economy of effort. Blen and her friends, seeing the bar empty, sat up on the bench seats in the bar to enjoy the relief of the air-conditioning and let their clothes dry. A waitresses wandered over to gossip. ‘How. Gomez. I reapplied “Sorry about that; I was very sick. To the point of hallucinating, did I miss any tests?”Her “No and what happened? You never miss any assignments ever.” Me “It is a long story. It will take a minute to tell you everything.”Her “Do tell me.”I told her everything and when I was done my phone rang. It was a number that I didn’t know. I answered it “hello?” it was Ms.Gomez “Damian are you okay? No to hell with that I’m coming over.” I had never met her in person or talked to. " Why is this happening?" I couldn't imagine why the terrorists would worry about coming after me, since they sacrificed their own with impunity all the time."The local and not-so-local imams are raising hell about you killing all six shooters. They think you were the head of a massive plot to insult the 'prophet' and demand your head to soothe their anger. For a bunch of Muslims, it doesn't take much to set them off, and anything their 'holy' men might say tends to be one big trigger. That's.