I was plumb floored with agitated interest when a string of half-dressed females came running past me to do a hoochy-coochy dance inside the tent with...a lot of suggestive gyrations that should not have been seen by children of either sex. It reminded me of the sordid shows back on Broadway that made a mockery of feminine mystique and accented the down dirty side of love-making that females liked to call simply “Love”. At least in this instance, the promoters were attempting to present it with a. “Wash your hands and go sit on the bed. Make your self comfortable. I’m going to text my husband. I think you need another hour with me sweetie. If that’s ok?” she giggled. I just smiled and washed my hands. I kind of waddle out to the big king size bed. My jeans still around my ankles. I quickly took off my shoes and then pulled off my jeans, onto the floor ext to the bed. I had to leave my runway open for Mrs. Smith to strut back and forth for me. I heard her send two texts before she walked. More

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