”“Your turn, Brenda. We can all ask questions later, but we need the basics of why we’re eating your crackers on the fifteenth floor of a luxury...high rise, five minutes from the center of all that is wrong with the world. Don’t get me wrong, it’s also the legacy of what’s right with most of the world. I’m just a bit jaded.”“Point taken. Do however, in your jaded thoughts, remember that people like Burnstead have to do their nasty dealings in places like Aruba with a lower standard of morality,. Back in the late nineteen nineties, I'd worked with this older white guy by the name of David, who had started confiding in me about issues regarding his sexual relationship with his wife, Carol. This had started, interestingly enough, after I'd been telling him about my various weekend adventures with a number of dissatisfied married white women; who's husbands, I had explained, had a lot of money, but not much interest, or even the capacity, to satisfy their wives sexually---and, as a result,. I stayed the hell out of her underwear drawers even though I was very horny and excited by the fact she knew I had been into them. One night, after having been out on a movie date with a girl I knew, I came home about 12:30. I had to pass my aunt's room to get to mine, so as I came up the stairs, I saw the lights on in her room. I gave her an "it's just me" as I tried to hurry past her door. As I did, she said, "hey hon...come in and keep me company while I take my makeup off." Reluctantly, I. This only made her more wet. “What is that for. Excited to see me wearing these?” she flipped up her skirt briefly to show Jim the panties. “Always excited to see any part of you, but I got a few texts from Trisha” “MMmmmm can I see them?” Janet reached impatiently for his phone. “Yes. You really aren’t the same woman you were when we left 7 days ago are you?” “Is that a rhetorical question?” She asked as Jim handed her his phone. Janet scrolled thru the texts with her eyes widening more.