"Adam," I reprimanded with a sharp whisper. "I thought you weren't going to jump me." It's not 'jumping'," Adam pointed out with a laugh. "Now what's ...our next question?"My brain was fogged by the insistent brush of his thumb against my nipple. "What was in France?"Adam paused his stroking. "Pardon?" Last night you said you got your tattoos when you came home from France, as a celebration. I was just wondering what was in France."Adam chuckled into my hair. "Cooking school. I studied cooking. I found out later that he keptan album with before and after pictures of all the white guy's buttholes.He liked to see them going from tight and pink to swollen and gaping aftertheir first Mandingo party I guess. The party lasted for several hours more. Guys eventually began tofilter out and I pitched in with the rest of the slaves to help clean up.Eventually I got dressed and left, riding the train home in a daze. When Igot back to my apartment I collapsed into bed, exhausted from my. More

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