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He had every right to request a refund and start over, but that didn’t seem appropriate. His meeting with Frida was not meant to be, yet by a simple twist of fate, had occurred anyway. What was done could not be undone, he reasoned. ‘I don’t know what to do. I suppose I’ll go through with it and see her again.’ ‘You should cut and run, my boy. She’s not your type.’ ‘How can you be so sure?’ Aaron shrugged. ‘Hey, I’ve got a question. What the hell is a Psyche?’ Rich sat up straight in his chair. This was a subject he actually knew something about. ‘Psyche is the objective of Psychology. It is the totality of the human mind, conscious and unconscious. It’s from the Greek, meaning life, spirit, ghost, and self.’ ‘Hmm, that doesn’t make any sense. Why would some hacker use that as a handle?’ ‘Well, there is another possibility, I suppose,’ Rich replied. ‘There’s also the Roman mythology of Cupid and Psyche. It isn’t really mythology, though, it’s more of a fairy tale.’ ‘Wait a minute.. Chapter Two. When I came to I was completely disoriented and confused, all I knew was that something wonderful was happening. I could not think coherently as my cock was in a warm, wet and wonderful place. I opened my eyes and looked down my body at a head of copper red hair going up and down at my pelvis and stars bursting in my brain. Then it came to me through the fog, Vicky! She looked up at me as she pulled her mouth up to the end of my cock and cleared her hair out of her face. With a loud smack she pulled off of my cock and crawled up my body like a predator ready to feed. For just a second I thought she might consume me for nourishment, and I was willing to let her. I could not understand what was happening with this beautiful woman. She was acting like one of my mates in season, and just as demanding. (Our females are very aggressive.) I could not help it but this woman was making me lose control. I did not think any more because Vicky had reached my face and was staring.
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She was in a tight fitting black dress which was low in the front and cuttoff just before her knees. With the male half complaining outside still, our happy little six-some officially entered the Zebra Club. Stepping into the foyer it finally dawned on me who this woman was and consequently the man outside. The men stepped up to the coatcheck to get their hands stamped and I stepped back with Faith for a second and whispered in her ear You are not going to believe this, but thats Mrs Parson, I confided Get the fuck out , Faith gasped back Mrs. Theresa Parson was the wife of Reverend Jeremiah Parson, the man outside. I didt recognize them outside of sermons and her leading the choir. Let alone in this outfit. She was always so sweet and light and almost unbearably chipper. I wonder if the good Reverend outside would remember his regular preachings on the sins of the flesh at Sundays service. Speaking of flesh, I could certainly see alot of Mrs Parsons as the fellas went up the coat.

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