"Thanks. Ya, I think he's a turd. I've been saving myself looking forward to some time alone with him while he was probably out playing around with ot...her girls."Without thinking I put my hand softly on her inner thigh. "You're right. He's a turd." We both laughed. I noticed that she didn't remove my hand but put one of her hands on top of it squeezing gently and pulling it up further until it disappeared under the black girl's skirt.I thought my pecker was done for the day but I could feel it. She snatched her hand away."No way Romeo, " she said forcefully, "I play for the other team."I sighed dramatically. "Story of my life, all the good ones are taken."That made her laugh. "Looking at you I don't think the disappointment will last."Amada and I quickly became friends and sparring partners. She had a sharp and quick wit that kept me in stitches. I treated Amada as I did all my friends, not put off in the slightest that she was gay. I had to wonder at the mutual attraction I felt with. In the future, it will become known as post-traumatic stress disorder. Are you aware of any of this, from a medical perspective?" I asked her."Post-traumatic stress disorder?" she echoed. "No, I don't think I've heard it called that before. I know that a lot of returning veterans have had trouble readapting to civilian life. After WWI it was called shell shock, and after WWII it was combat fatigue. Now, I think it's called stress response syndrome." It won't be until DSM-III in 1980 and ICD-10. At that moment there weren't any hungry kids in the Middle East, nor were there any kids dying in Africa. The world just seemed beautiful for a few minutes.I went to bed with all of them in the Steven's king sized bed. The heat pump was set so that blankets were unnecessary and people were unlikely to perspire. The house was adjusted for an orgy, and I was perfectly willing to do my part.Jo Anne reached over and killed the lights. When it got dark in that room it was really as dark as original.