"Nice move, Clete," Priscilla said bitterly into his ear. "I always like to be outsmarted by muscle-brained Afros with six- shooters." Glad to oblige,... Clete said smoothly."So now what?" Priscilla shot back. "I'd got plans for that video tape, and, what the fuck, I don't have it." There's a good reason for that," Clete said. "It's because I've got it. Now what did you have in mind?" That's my business." Mine, too, little lady. It's my black dick that's reaming her." Clete tossed the towel down. I was a bit surprised, because she usually went out with friends on a Friday and her parents’ house was about as far from central London as ours.“Hi, can I sleep with you?” she asked, because she loves double entendres.“What, on a Friday? Are you planning to hide a hangover from your parents?”“No. I just feel like it. I miss Eddie.”“Edwin. He’s not a Martian crater.”“Oh, there’s a crater called Eddie, is there? I found that Belgian singer, too. Eddy Wallie.”“I didn’t know you kept track.”“Well,. More

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