Easy. Easy. You don’t know how to drink, you idiot.“That’s it, drink up.” Mr. Richards’ voice was low, soothing.“Mr. Richards, would you p...ease delete that photo from your iPhone?” Carly asked in a small voice. “I’ll get in big trouble if you don’t.”“We’ll see. First, drink.”She did. She heard Jenn take a big drink from her glass. She did the same.My head is spinning.“Sit down, right there on the couch.” Another order.They did, sitting side by side. Mr. Richards stood before them, looking down. My wife is screwing another man and I am screwing that man's wife. I'm not supposed to know about my wife and the other man, she doesn't know about me and the other man's wife, but the man and his wife know all about each other, but the man doesn't know that I know he knows about me and his wife. Confused? So was I for a while.To understand the circumstances that led to the situation we have to go back ten years to the time my wife and I decided to move from a large city to a small town. While. In a few days complete ads in my voice would fill the airways. The media team wanted to direct campaign ads to select groups. Since I could speak the languages it would be a big boost over the liberal - or so they thought.I finished in time for a late lunch. I was still waiting on official news from New York and all that was coming was bad. The building that had collapsed was the corporate offices of the Soweto investment and brokerage.Soweto investments controlled investments worth over one. ” I said and took Yolanda’s hand. We marched into the bathroom and I yanked back the shower curtain. “Irene!” squealed Oscar. “What are you doing?” He cupped his hand over his penis, trying to hide his nakedness. Yolanda stood there with her arms folded, and I turned off the water. “Shut up.” I said. I grabbed Oscar’s wrist and pulled his hand away from his crotch, revealing his small shriveled prick. “What are you doing?” he shouted. “There,” I said to Yolanda. “See?” She shrugged. “But it’s.
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