" For my part, I didn't even know the "type" existed. I looked over at Janelle and saw that she was just zipping up the fly to her jean shorts and was...fully dressed already. What the fuck! How the hell did she do that! Sasha smiled at Janelle but then turned to look at me. I was kneeling on the ground still groping for my shorts and her gaze dropped to my crotch. "But I must give you props for your excellent taste. Hey Randy." I quickly grabbed my boxers and stood up still holding them. I bent. I figured that it would pass, and as long as she didn't expect me to return the favor, I would be okay with it. I just wouldn't kiss her right afterward.As always, my woman's Neapolitan heritage showed up in her cooking. Early on in our relationship, I tried to be somewhat egalitarian in the kitchen sense, helping out and so forth. Desiree soon disabused me of such rubbish, as she thought of it. In her mind, it was her second most sacred duty to fill my belly, superseded only by a woman's. More

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