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"Oh, shit," Rhonda said.Part IIA -- The Test: Practical Experience"OK, guys," Rhonda said. "Very funny. Ha ha. The joke's on me."Gary, Jasmine and Kari remained oblivious. John sighed."They can't hear you," he told Rhonda. "They're all asleep. I wanted to have a private chat with you. Would you mind picking up that bottle, by the way? It's spilling everywhere."Rhonda righted the bottle while saying, "So, what am I supposed to think? That you have a machine that reprogrammed them, just like that?" No machine," John said. He tapped his forehead. "I'm all natural." Sure you are," Rhonda said. "Jeez, guys, get up. How gullible do you think I am?" All right," John said with another sigh. "Proof. Why don't you try leaving the room?"Rhonda looked at him suspiciously. "Why? Is there some practical joke rigged outside?" No jokes," John said. "Just try it."With a shrug, Rhonda got up and went to the door. There was a long pause."Um, John?" Yes, Rhonda?" I can't open the door." She looked back. Her hips implied the same rhythmic beat that had writhed beneath Ned’s thrusting erection several times this summer. The alpha male in Ned gloated over his exclusive access to these prime specimens of female flesh and fortitude. He knew the local college boys tried for dates with the beauties but were politely and firmly rebuffed. He assumed they assuaged their frustration with their hands or the second tier females freely available among the campus crowd. The last girl to return was the tall brunette who wore hip-hugging yoga pants and a stretchy white athletic top, purposely boasting of the smooth sweep and tone of her body’s curves. The showcase look was fantastic as Ned watched her climb the steps, her ass undulating its invitation to follow. Ned’s summer charges had all safely returned to his sanctuary. It was time for his decision and duty. The semester was nearly ended. Over the last eight weeks, Ned had met his minimal responsibility of two heavy-duty fuck trainings with each.
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I needed expert advice and I knew where to get it, so I secured Cherie, then called my dad. His office staff cleared my call through to him immediately. They know I am his favorite son, though I have many brothers. I will loosely translate our conversation. He is fluent in English and barely has an accent, but prefers not to use it with his children and wives. “Father,” I told him after exchanging affectionate greetings, “I’ve found the mother of my children!” “Oh, which ones?” Dad responded; he always was a joker! “Uh, this girl is very much like my mother, dad.” I knew his phone lines were secure, but mine weren’t. I also knew he’d get the reference to my mother, who is still listed as a missing person by her previous family. “Oh, that’s interesting. If you need assistance I could send your mother by embassy car?” I knew I was in like Flynn, now. My mom is my number one fan! ”Yes, dad, please do. I don’t want to make any mistakes with this one.” “I have her on another line,”.

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