Marie always puts a piece of mozzarella cheese in the center of her meatballs. Mozzarella was just one of the cheeses we bought, and I learned how to ...pronounce it properly in Italian. I’ll get to the other cheese shortly. Then there was the sea salt. I always figured salt was salt, but Marie insisted on sea salt for everything. Now for the meat to go into the meatballs, we bought veal and chuck steak, luckily I have a meat grinder. Marie wasn’t happy with the Italian Sausage in that. They’d sprung apart, and our friend had leapt up, made an excuse, and fled.Emma, mortified, had followed her out but returned alone and silent. I’d told her I didn’t mind, that I knew she loved me, and that I loved her, and that I could easily share her with another. After we’d talked, and sent our friend a few text messages, after a few days had passed, she returned. She had arrived carrying a bottle of gin, in her blue denim jacket, a thin white jumper, her breasts clearly outlined and. He was in the midst of inviting her to stay the hell out of his life when she ended the call with, “Fuck you, spick!” He smiled and immediately sent her a text saying, “I get the last word, PUTA!”A week later Sarah finally admitted defeat, pulled up stakes and moved to Boise, Idaho, hoping to start with a clean, untainted image. She would learn over time that bad reputations tend to stick like super glue and follow you to the ends of the earth.The national police force in Romania and the. He looks to Miss E. She again responds with an affirmative nod. “Show us what you’ve learned.”Their eyes follow as yellow feathers trace every line of his fit body. Ever so lightly, he brushes his face, his neck. The feathers float across his chest. His nipples contract. Ms. E’s harden in response. Across his stomach, up and down the sides of his body, he teases the insides of his thighs, his bootie cheeks, his dick—he places the handle under his erection and runs it back and forth from its tip.