“Stian, please, call me Frode. I’ve never been a ‘Sir’ and ‘Mr. Solberg’ makes me feel even older than I really am. Or feel.”I looked at...the man who was sitting in shadow at the back yard of the house. Last night we had helped the city nightmen take the old privy barrels and we had installed the new ones. Normally this work would be done during the wintertime, but because of Frode’s back issues it had been postponed. I nodded at him and breathed in - which was a mistake since the smell seemed. ”And she did. By the time she was through, Trish’s mouth too was hanging open.“You can’t be serious,” she finally said. “Where did you leave him?”“Out there on the dance floor. Do you think I should go back and get him?”“I’d be doing that right now if I were you. You know how you’ve always talked about wanting to get fucked by a black guy. Well, here’s your chance.”The sensation between her legs was burning to an inferno, and she couldn’t help it. “Okay, I’ll go back there and find him, and. More

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