Sex Therapy...Part 1 (Adrian)

The middle aged white woman sitting at the desk looked me up and down before attempting to even ask what I was doing in the office. Part of me wanted to check her and tell her something very ugly; but then again, no telling what type of people she encountered on a daily basis, so I figured it was just force of habit.

"I'm here to see Dr. Praylo. She should be expecting me."

As the woman fumbled around her desk to find the appointment book and inform the good doctor that I was here to see her, I quickly studied her mannerisms...the things around her...things that would likely attempt to lighten her mood.

PAULA ERNST

45..maybe 50. Ring in the middle finger so she was married. The wrinkles on her face meant only that she may just be one of those badly aging white people, she smokes, or stress from family life.

"And you name is what again, sir," Paula rechecked.

"Davis...Braylon Davis."

A slip of her face might have been a concern as the doctor's reaction may have tipped her off that I had come in without an appointment.

"She'll be right with you."

Sweetly, I winked at Paula. "Thank you, ma'am."

I hadn't even sit down yet to wait when she peeked her head out the door to see me.

The look of shock on her face was subtle enough as to not alarm Paula that I was unannounced, nor was I hear to really have an appointment with the doctor...at least the kind she normally conducted.

"Mr. Davis..."

From what I could remember at the club, she had calming, dark brown eyes, but the closer I got to her, I got the sense of one of those "what the hell are you doing here" moments.

"Good afternoon, Doctor," I said as she closed the door behind us.

Now the real stuff...

"Um...Braylon, Mr. Davis, or whatever your name is..." she said. "I'm not sure how you found me, but I'm not sure how appropriate this is with you coming by my place of business and interrupting. "

I was barging in. And I truthfully knew exactly what I was doing when I walked in the door of her practice and told the receptionist to call her and announce that I was here. Now I understood her concern, but I was here on a pleasure call. Might take a second since she's one of those intellectuals and she'd probably be trying to dissect me in her head as we spoke, but little did she know.

"First off, Adrian..."

She must have not liked to be referred to by her first name when supposedly on business. Maybe she didn't notice the slight frown when I called her first name, but I was well aware of it.

First mistake...a complex that is ushered in by a fear of not having enough authority in her role as a professional.

"Dr. Praylo, it is..." she replied.

"Yes, ma'am..."

For a few minutes I engaged her about her work, slyly playing off the fact that she really didn't want me to be in her office or that she may have just been uncomfortable at the fact that I may have been assessing her as well.

It was more so small talk. About her life...her practice...her book she mentioned to me a few nights before at the club. It must've been aggravating as she gave some pretty short answers. Maybe the reason she came to the club was to experience the culture, the "life" I live. The sins that get me paid...

"Mr. Davis, I'm sorry could you excuse me for a second?"

"Sure."

Her leaving was just my cue. If I guessed right, she was probably going to tell her receptionist to get the building's security to come and escort me out. Yet, and again, if I guessed right...and my plan works...Adrian A. Praylo would be most compelled to take me on as a patient.

The Pleasure Principles Rule #1: Conversation

Any man can pull out his d**k and stick it in a woman. Hell, my 13 year old cousin, Chris, can do that. You wanna be a major player in the "skins" game (and I ain't talking about golf), you got to bring more to the table than what you got in your pants. Say the average man can really hold himself maybe 30 or 40 minutes, right? Cool. But in my experience with women, and the business of profiting off their pleasure, you f**k a lady that long. You stiff a bi**h or a ho with a hard batch of d**k, 10-15 minutes tops, and you send her on her merry way. That's just the way of the world.

Yet, where does the money come into play?

Hold on, my friend...I will get there.

Haste will obviously be your biggest problem.

When you f**king with a LADY, especially one in a metropolitan city like Atlanta, you have to realize that d**k comes a dime a dozen. She can toss a quarter in the street and hit a ni**a that wants to f**k within the first 5 minutes (if that long). He could be a pizza delivery guy...a dope boy...a CEO of a Fortune 500 company...or another bum ass ni**a.

You...you're just ordinary. A 9-5 job...a $25,000 car...barely enough $$$ to get into a decent club, let alone VIP.

And yet, how does she choose?

Conversation.

It's what separates all men. The type of women I serve as clients to my business automatically know they can use their money, power, and pu**y to get anything they want. They stalk the grounds like a confident man does when he enters a boardroom knowing he is about to seal a big deal. They laugh at meager attempts to buy their affection or time by offering to buy rounds of drinks for her and her girls. And when they go home to their empty condo or to their limp-natured husbands, the one thing they forgot to ask was:

How was your day?

The power of engaging a woman in a decent conversation is almost like a lost art; however, when you are able to hold your own on topics ranging from politics to religion to sports to the Wall Street Journal, a woman will gladly pay for that. She is intrigued by a man that does more than peer into her blouse to get a peek at her breasts even though they are clearly showing. She checks your intentions before you even walk over to her, yet mix a tantalizing convo with a bit of charm, and the fire is already lit within her inner walls.

She rides your d**k like there is no tomorrow. She sucks, f**ks, and bucks you like she hasn't had a man in years.

It's not that she can't have it. It's not that she can't get it. It's about a man who is pleasing to the mind. Not that physical aesthetics aren't just as pleasing, but with d**k being so easily available, being able to ease her mind with meaningful banter rather than barbaric advances of lust is worth it's weight in gold.

And I do mean GOLD....

Ask about me.

B.A.D.

Rolling Like a Big Dog: Pays to Be Me...

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as her flowing mane bounced around at each buck against her waist Thunderous beatings against her backside echoed the living room. Dyci bucked like an animal trashing around in a cage that didn't want to be in. It was like the more I pounded her, the more punishment she wanted to receive. It wasn't as if I didn't normally f**k her for the top dollar piece of ass that she was, but when she was "rolling" on the "E," Colony's baby girl and number one money trap was a beast on that D.

I had popped a few pills when I was in college. Hell, even now, I tossed a few back in recent years, but it wasn't something that I just had a regular habit to get on it. This bi**h that met in college...one of those black girls who grew up with a bunch of white people, doing white people sh*t like dating redneck white boys with mud tires on their pickups or play club soccer in high school. But she was a young, freak b**ch and she liked to bang, especially when she was on "E," so why not try it.

"F**kitf**kitf**it," mumbled Dyci as her back sweat ferociously from the onslaught. When you pop pills, the high gets so intense that you can f**k for hours and not bust. Nigs hear stories like that all the time, but they truly don't know until they've been there.

It may have only been thirty minutes or so but it seemed like we had been going for hours. My pelvis was so raw from the constant banging that I just wanted to...

STOP.

A deranged and confused Dyci gave me a blank stare as I had abruptly whipped my d**k out and walked over to the refrigerator to grab a bottled water without so much giving her any kind of warning.

"What...what's wrong?"

"D, I'm tired...sh*t, I'm hot."

Dyci seemed to float as she pulled up next to my side and grabbed my penis.

"Oooooh, baby, I gotta finish," she pleaded. "Just a lil more. Get me off."

Druggie b**ch.

You know those scenes in those ghetto ass movies like New Jack City where the addict really pours it on thick for a hit of the dope...well, that's how Dyci was acting.

Now I would always be proud that my di*k is probably like none of the tricks she took for their money, but then again, that ecstasy gives you this adrenaline rush ten times faster than anything because it was one of those 2 in 1 type drugs - speed and the lowest grade of coke.

All the signs where there, and while I preferred to just come crashing down from my high, Dyci continued to jack me standing up, hoping that I would give in and just continue to smash her.

"Dyci, chill, baby girl..."

She wouldn't be denied even with another resounding decline of her wares, dropping to her knees on the marble floor and polishing my knob like some kind of slutty maid. Her lips rippled across the length of my wand, bobbing back and forth as if her face had the energizer bunny built inside. Dying from the pleasure, I wanted so bad to let go in her mouth. Probably would've choked her with all that damn build-up. Again, I had to stop...

"No..."

I had seized her face in mid slide and held her head at waist's length, just enough that she couldn't do any more damage or even worse, clamp her teeth down on my d**k and hurt me.

Sad puppy dog eyes...B**ch, that game works on a nigga paying you for pu**y.

An evil twinge groped my loins as I attempted to ease away from her mouth. She knew that I was stubborn so as i slowly slid out, her lips complied with my demand. 3/4 of me was out when suddenly I rammed back into her orals and pounded my torso against her face. You could imagine the delectable horror in her eyes as she looked up at me and wondered where this had come from.

"You like when Daddy does that, don't you..."

A moment of "what the f**k" had seriously struck Dyci. She must have been thinking "I may be high, but this nigga must be out of his f**king mind..."

But her pu**y tingled as I didn't give her to much more time to think, pounding her mouth again as I had banged her before.

Silence...

Another bang...then more silence...

"You like???"

Lust braced a smile against her filled jaws, hoping that I would just continue and stop teasing her...

"Mhmm," she moaned.

While I toyed with her, Dyci, feverishly rubbed hit clit, trying to figure out which was the more feasible of the two if both needs weren't getting served simultaneously.

Jokingly, I laughed in her face and took another sip of my water. "I should get paid for some sh*t like this."

As if I already wasn't from my other clients.

There was that stare again. And this time it was harder.

Dyci quickly caught her bearings, got up, walked over to her jacket, and fumbled around for a few seconds.

"D...come on. I'm just messing with you."

She stalked back over to kitchen counter, slamming her hand against the granite counter top.

500 dollars...

Dyci? Offering me money? Was it the drugs? Was she fed up with...

Watching her brace her leg against a bar stool, the pink lips of her womaness looked as inviting as it always have. Her drug-induced rage had her groping her own breasts like a horny man would...

My mind raced with the beat of my heart as a rush of blood kept my manhood at attention. The only time I ever heard that "all money wasn't good money" was when I used to play dominoes with my drunk ass uncles.

So B.A.D.

BAD, BAD, and more BAD (BAD BAD Man..the ending)

A playa hadn’t even stuck a finger down there, but I could tell by her breathing that the pu**y was wet with anticipation. I could literally breathe on her and she would’ve been likely to bust a nut. S**t was getting exciting as hell. A rush of adrenaline was filtering from my heart down to my manhood.

“Braylon…”

Fuck!!!! What the fuck is it!?!?!

“Karima…what is it, lady?”

She stopped to catch her breath for a moment. Kinda sounded like she had been running a marathon or something.

“I’m…oh damn, boy…It’s just that we’re here. Alone. And I’m…I’m scared.”

Scared??? Scared of what?

“Have I ever given you a reason to be scared of me?”

“No…”

Slowly, I circled Karima until she could feel me from behind. My shaft lay between the creases of her cheeks. Her back tightened at the touch while he legs seemed to loch and her ass went firm. Jitters, nerves of the unknown pleasures I was sure to provide…pleasure that she had handsomely paid for.

“And do you think after all this time that I would hurt you?”

“No,” she sighed. “But it’s just this thing. We hadn’t seen each other in so long. I had no idea that things were gonna come to a head so soon. I mean…I want you. Oh, damn, I want you so bad…”

Dragging a stiff member around the edges of her hips and back to the front, I was nearly fu**ing her already and I had yet to stick anything in. Underneath a silky mound of light hair, her folds lay atop the head of my d**k. Had they been able to talk, they would have probably given just as much vocal resistance to go along with a yearning to let me in.

I kissed Karima again, tasting her tongue a bit longer. It was lusty, yet the feelings were mutual. This was supposed to happen. Arranged or not, I was bent on being inside her.

Her pink flesh split like a treasure box, revealing the softest place of her womanly core. As I slid in between her space, inch by inch, it was as if her body forced her to draw me in more until I filled her reluctant desires to give in to the sexual rapture.

Slow thrusts passively ripped her doubts down from the walls of her honeycomb and her nectar spilled over onto me like a river.

“Braylon…”

“Mmmm…”

“Braylon…”

I loved it when they called my name. I didn’t give a damn whether they were screaming it or not, I just loved the sound of my name draping from the lips of another satisfied customer.

“Yes…”

“Braylon…I can’t…”

Can’t what?!?!

That sh*t startled the hell out of me. I’m knee deep inside you and you can’t…Can’t what?!?! Can’t see? Can’t breathe? B**ch, you better speak up…

“Can’t what?”

I stopped my strokes, not getting from atop her just in case she changed her mind, but just enough to look as if I was attentive to what she wanted to say.

“This just ain’t right,” she said. “I’m…I’m engaged.”

Now there is an old saying that my grandmother used to tell me: If you’re not married, you’re single.

Mind you she was never married, but Granny was smart as hell. But I wanted to think about this.

Here was this beautiful blast from my past. I’m inside of her, literally taking her with each pump, and she wants to tell me that she was engaged?

Damn, that was a shocker. And truth be told, I really didn’t give a f**k. And she continued to put up that fight while I pumped…and pumped…and pumped.

It wasn’t her p***y that gave out as she bucked back at my fierce release against her very being. It was her spirit, her mind that gave in to the demand for the flava…

On my d**k, she was free from the rest of her mundane life. She had a choice…like they all do…

And she chose to be B.A.D….

A BAD, BAD Man...(part 2)

So…where did I leave off? The talk, right?

Trust me, you wouldn’t have given a damn what we were talking about. You want the sex part. The lusting…busting nuts all over the place…the pleasing screams that you yearn for in your own lives…

Sh*t, what else should I get paid for…because if you were Karima, you’d want me to get down to the chase too.

Neither she nor I had yet to turn on any lights in the room, but it was nothing to feel each others presence. Just that hint of déjà vu in the air. I couldn’t help but think that this time, I was going to have her all my own. Even with the ignorance floating around outside, I was going to take her body for all it was worth and leave just as sure as I came…no pun intended.

“Braylon?”

See…It’s stuff like this. Seriously I thought we were done talking. This wasn’t making up for lost time.

“Yes, ma’am…”

Karima sighed. “What am I doing here?”

Are you f**king kidding me?!?!? This s**t?!?! Right now?!?! Be cool, Bray. Be cool.

“You’re here with me. That should be all that matters”

Things did seem to go sort of fast. From our place on the couch, just two old friends chatting and catching up, to the two of us being alone in a dark room with very little space between us.

I couldn’t tell what was racing in her mind, but her body was speaking tongues to me and they were loud and clear. Her hips fit right in between the grooves of my hands while my fingertips sat slightly at the rise of her ass. The heat of the night had beckoned her to come closer, to finally make it happen; yet, something was still pulling her back.

“Braylon…”

I purposely ignored her call just to move in closer to her. Considering I was taller than her, she still had to look up to me—even with the lights out.

I could’ve whipped her around like I’ve done with some of my “marks” before and just banged her like some rich whore; however, this was something I wanted to savor. Sh*t, I’m entitled to a sensual f**k every now and then.

She exhaled like Whitney Houston as she seemed to breathe in my essence. Still, I felt her pulling away until she finally slipped out of my grasp.

“Braylon, I—I—I know that I have you here and we have this history. And the last time we were alone…Just—Just so many things…”

This wasn’t sounding good. All that damn stuttering sounded like she was about to hit me with some sort of news that was hazardous or something. I was going to have to act quick. This chick was not going to get away from me this time. I mean even though I’m going to get paid, this was a long time coming…

Can’t ya tell how bad I wanted this b**ch to keep saying how long it’s been or how I shoulda/coulda/woulda? Pathetic, right? N***a, please. I’m a pimp.

She couldn’t get out another word before I swept her back into my grasp. She squirmed like a fish, but her lips part opened so easily as I worked her like the world was going to end in a matter of seconds. Her other set of lips you just as easily be parted later. The passionate rage grew within us as I could feel her body get warm and her kisses were becoming just as deep as mine. Instantly, we had peeled one another’s close off. The two of us were standing there.

Naked. Ready to f**k. Sealing a long awaited deal.

I reached out to touch her again; and although it wasn’t cold in the room, she flinched as I ran a finger across her nipple. A twinge of sin crashed against her brain as I touched the other. I could see everything in the midst of nothing at all.

“Braylon…I need to…”

Too many words had been spoken…

In an effort to ease her tension, I kissed her again. The type of kiss that rolls over the cusp of your teeth, tracing the lips just before a luscious bite of twisted greed. I stepped back for a second…just for the reaction.

She smiled wide like she hadn’t been kissed like that in some time. Obliged, she grabbed my wrists. She had feared if she took this any further, some sense of regret might linger..just as her brown, chocolate drop nipples were lingering in my mouth in that very moment.

Karima breathed deeply. While a roaming right hand embraced her right breast, my focus remained on the other, teasing her wilds with an irregular suction pattern that her erect nipples would only feel more pleasure as she tried to remove them from my mouth…

(To be continued)

A BAD, BAD Man...(part one)

The ride up the elevator was a quiet one. I hadn't been back from my trip with Myra for no more than maybe a few hours and Colony was already putting me to work. Quickly she flashed me one of those "n***@ don't act" smiles. Whenever she wanted me to "meet some people," there was always money involved. But the club was pretty lively tonight before we headed up the elevator, so this really had to be something interesting if she didn't want me to "work" the room downstairs

That chick was really something.

"Jan's been looking around for you," Colony said just as the door opened to the penthouse suite.

WTF!!! I hadn't heard from Jan (Dr. Rix) since the last time we were together...and now she's looking for me through Colony? Was something wrong? Was she ok? Why the hell did she have to go through Colony anyways?!?!?!

The retracting doors opened up to reveal a multitude of rowdy women all over the place. The music was loud and alcohol seemed to be flowing abundantly. Hoots and hollers came from all corners of the room as some of Colony's "other entertainment" pranced around the room. From the looks of it several of the rooms inside the suite; and by the looks of things, all kinda shit was popping off up in there. Probably was nothing more than a bachlorette party.

I was so wrong.

"Ladies...ladies," Colony interrupted. "Let me introduce you to a very talented associate of mine."

Again the catcalls came. Hell, I still had all my clothes on, but it was flattering nonetheless. I had a feeling that was about to change.

If Colony had to introduce me as someone special then she was probably going to give me away to the highest bidder or the one whom the party was for. Several of the women in the room giggled as I walked. But I would have to if I was them. Had you seen me walking through the room like a GQ centerpiece, you would have done it too.

Passing all the ass and muscles being thrown around the room, Colony led me over to a seating area where this fine ass chick, maybe at least 6 ft tall, had been straddled by this dancer and buddy was seriously swinging every inch of himself in her face. She held a bottle of Grey Goose in one hand and her leg up in the other...and that's when she spotted me.

Ever have one of those moments when you know you should've taken advantage of a situation that had presented itself, and something random just totally messed it up? Then you try your best to get things going again and it just never happens?

"That's her...," Colony pointed out. "Paying some good money too."

Oh I bet she did...

"Karima Ashlie...this is..."

Braylon Davis...

After all this time...She had been a diamond in the rough back in the day, yet though all these years, DAMN...

"You two know each other," Colony asked.

Karima was that one chick I was describing in one of those "I wish I could go back" scenarios. Like the way it had been set up, it was too perfect for us to not have hooked up that night.

Her warm, dark eyes displayed a maturity that I had noticed all those years ago. And from the looks of it, it had seemingly served her well. She hadn't grown above her 5'7 frame and she may have put on 5-10 pounds over the years, but to have watched her stalk around a party in some bad ass heels...

Her pecan skin was so smooth as my sure hands ran over her arms, tracing her structure in my embrace...over her shoulders and down her hips. Even in the dark, her matching bra and panties were as evident as her slightly intoxicated nature. Heavy flirting had guided us from bar to bar. Drink after drink gave us the consent that if only for this one time, two fond acquaintances could make up for lost time.

Even though I liked my titties a certain size (which she wasn't), I was still drawn to her curves as she slowly grinded against my waist. The small of her back rested against my abs as she continued to tease my thunder.

We never had come this far before, but it wasn't a secret that at that point, it was seriously all about a f**k. She might have not thought that far...or maybe she was way ahead of me and the cranberry and vodkas we had earlier were just clouding our judgement. I was horny...oh yes. Definitely...and so was she...

But if anything, my thoughts were not only to commit myself to her physical pleasure, but to her mental as well. P***y was some dime a dozen s**t to me back then just like it is now. It was cool to chase the cat a little, but the real fun was getting a woman to commit her mind to the thrill of what was about to happen. She wouldn't be treated like some drunken whore. With these hands, I'd just peel away her insecurities like a grape...and squeeze out ALLLLLLL that woman that often hid beneath those layers.

Kissing hadn't been my thing then, and it really still wasn't now, but watching her smile, rolling her tongue along a slight gap that undoubtedly turned me on, I couldn't help but wonder if--

"How long has it been?"

"Too long," Karima slyly replied"

"Last time I saw you out partying..."

A sheepish grin bore across her glossed lips. Might not have been a good idea to push the conversation that far, but nostalgia normally makes for the best convo amongst old friends.

"The last time you saw me partying," she started. "You, Mr. Davis, were being B.A.D."

Taxing that A$$...

"I'll have those papers ready for you by the week's end," Lucy said as she strolled toward the door, tugging on her skirt to make sure she looked presentable before she walked out.

"Then I will see you on Friday."

"Friday...hmmm....I think I may have to work late on Friday," she replied.

Silly ass...I hope she wasn't thinking that I meant that I wanted to see her again on Friday (which I probably would have anyhow).

"I wasn't planning on seeing you," I replied. "You can just email the files to me as normal."

Emailing my personal bank files to me...doctoring information for tax purposes...laundering illegal tender produced through activities that involve the exchanging of money for sex...

ALL ILLEGAL AS F**K...

Clearly, that was nothing a little bit of d**k and a few extra monetary perks under the table couldn't handle.

As much as I may be a little weary about Colony and how she works her business, I had to give the b**ch some props, she had all of her ducks in a row. If she needed a banker, she got her a top notch, undercover freak that was a regular human at work, but wanted to be banged like a porn star after hours.

If she needed to overnight a package, she probably threw the UPS dude a few sniffs of the pu**y. then BAM!!! I bet she got that next day shipping for free.

Hell, the lil nig she had cleaning her pool, probably cleans her pool for free just to suck on one of those titties.

Either way, she had folks in place to take care of her business when necessary. Lucy, just happened to be my project.

She was the tallest of her girls that she rolled with. That night I saw her in the club, it was her 6 foot frame that stood out to me the most. Probably around 25 or 26. She had silky, black hair, beige skin, thin lips...

I think Lucy had the confidence in herself to know she was a bad b**ch, yet she played it a little more low key than her friends. That either meant she was naturally shy and had some of those awkward moments as a kid where she was teased because she was tall...or she had some other motives and was in the club to do more than just have a few drinks.

Her motives became even more evident once the night grew older--and Colony drew nearer.

Colony liked her share of hoes but the way she ran game on Lucy and her friends, getting them liquored up and entertaining them with some other male companions that she just happened to have on stand-by for situations like such. Lucy didn't drink as much as the rest of the group, but even those few shots of Nuvo had her feeling good.

I normally didn't kiss "marks" but from the look Colony had given me before I took Lucy away with me to the VIP, I knew that this must have been a special client. The taste of the pink champagne lingered on her tongue as her kisses were just as intoxicating as her looks. Tipsy, yet still more coherent than not, Lucy peeled off her top first.

See that's what I like about chicks that f**k with Colony. Ain't much of any talking or game running. Supply and demand...

Even with her current state, had I not taken the liberty of helping her remove her skirt, she may have sobered up quicker and the mood would've been ruined. It was too dark to tell if her undergarments were Vickie's or La Perla, but what I did know was that from feet to head, that young Amazon was gonna be one fun time.

Keeping in mind that this was still part of my "business," I turned Lucy every which way. Missionary, doggy style...face down, @ss tooted out...all in the name of making her long, fine @ss cum with excitement. Each time she came, I could feel her insides flutter with rage, her black hair shaking all over the place. I couldn't tell what she was saying...hell, I don't even recall exchanging names with her. But here I was parting her legs, enjoying her flesh , taking pride in her squeals.

And then I hit her with this one deal where I had her bent over the plush couch, spread like a surveyor's telescope...took both her arms and held them together behind her back with my right hand...wrapped my left hand with a handful of her hair, gently tugging in rhythm with each beastly thrust to her backside. Her C-cups stood perfectly in place as I arched her back to dig deeper within her wetness. A grimacing smile splashed along her face as the force of my nature smashed harder against her walls. I was going to make her pass out before I came...or at least that was my intention.

Her convulsions steadily continued on for a few more minutes as I finished her off. She hadn't passed out, but she was sweating bullets and I was ready to get back to the main room. A swift grip of the hips, coupled with her pu**y's muscles squeezing against my shaft, I couldn't contain myself. A beautiful nut exploded against the latex walls of the Magnum I always seemed to have when I came to the club. Low grumblings pressed against both our lips as it took a second to empty my lustful cup.

A few moments subsided before I pulled out of her and gathered my clothes. She lay there on the couch, exhausted yet seemingly fulfilled at the performance I just gave. I didn't expect her to pull any money out of her purse considering she carried nothing back to the room but her clothes. Colony must have had it all taken care of...

Talking about Uncle Sam taxing that @ss...her better ask Lucy about B.A.D.