Don’t you?” I snapped. Apart from the laptop, nothing seemed to be missing.“Maybe we should ask the Khafama,” suggested Omar.“Oh, I will. Wh...re is that little...”I needn’t have asked. The Khafama appeared, with a devious grin.“Did you do this?” asked Omar, in Arabic. I could understand most of the answer:“Yes, Your Royal Highness. I inspected this room for alcohol and drugs. I am sorry to report he had changed the lock. We had to force it. And he added THIS!”He held up the Sherlock lock in. Another guy was talking with two girls and Pam had to push them out of the way to get to the door. She knocked and no one answered, so she opened the door. Inside, she saw the back of a girl with long brown hair in the arms of a guy whose face she couldn't see."Excuse me," Pam said, and backed out."Hey Pam, don't go," the guy said.Pam stopped, staring. It was Del. The girl in his arms turned to look, and it was Amber."I was ... I was looking for you," Pam said."Yeah, I found Amber." Del's hands. .." I insist, really."There was that smile again. This time it was accompanied by a mischievous look in her eyes. I liked that too. This Monday might not be so bad after all.I staggered backwards a bit and sort of fell into her chair. She walked slowly towards me and bit her lower lip. She hiked up her skirt just enough to get down on her knees and soon she started to rub her hand around my package. I let out a light groan as she just looked up at me again with that look.She reached up a bit. There’s no use trying to hide it. We may as well admit, at least to him, that we are in a ménage a trios. Gee, I wonder if we were hiding it would we be a ménage a troglodyte? Can you even say that? If you make a pun in two different languages, isn’t that some kind of mixed metaphor or something? It feels like breaking a rule. Maybe it is a rule, like splitting infinitives, that was made to be broken. To boldly enter into a ménage a troglodyte, she thought, and giggled to herself. Suddenly, she.