I set the oven to preheated for the bacon.Monica came into the kitchen still wearing only my button down shirt."You are so sexy in my clothes." I told...her with a smirk."Well, it's all about how you wear it. And you seem to be wearing those pants wrong," she said with a cute frown."Oh, really? Why don't you fix them for me, then."Suddenly, her demeanor changed. She looked me in the eye, rolled her shoulders back, and walked sexily toward me.She put her hand on the back of my neck and whispered. We have been taken in by the myths that abound in the popular culture.The media report that black men have a higher incidence of participation in drug dealing. It's not true.They report that black youth spend much of their time in gangs dealing drugs and fighting with each other. It's a myth.They report that, even in prison, black men continue this behavior of participating in gangs and dealing drugs. All lies.They are actually involved in top-secret education classes after school, not involved. Jonas turned to Joe and said, "Thanks for this Joe. I really appreciate it." I know you do," Joe said gently. "As you said, we both want you to succeed. You have done well but there are more difficult missions coming. I thought spending time with your family would help you through the times to come." Thanks Joe," Jonas said. He smiled and said, "I'll do my best."Jonas sat in one of the folding chairs that funeral directors use at grave side ceremonies. He stared at the two graves ready to be. Goodbye."He jumped in the limo and left us there. The dress had fallen open. Could anyone see her? She her nakedness? She the cum on her thigh? Her clit ring glistening with wetness? Becky looked at me and blushed. Ashamedly, she held the dress around her, looking down."Please, Bobby, I hurt. Will you carry me in?" she said very softly.I lifted her in my arms, carrying her into the house, to our bedroom where I gently set her down on the bed. She fumbled through her purse and handed me a tiny.