Eric put another thing in my hand. I looked down to see a black permament marker in my hand."You're going to brand your wife for me. I want you to w...rite 'Eric's Slut' across both of her asscheeks in big letters," he said, grinning wide. My dick was bursting through my thin boxers. I was insanely horny thinking about this, but I knew this marker would probably last for weeks before it finally wore away. I would have to see Eric's name everytime I stared at my wife's ass for the near. The way it strikes him makes him take a pause. “How’d you come onto the place?” Her eyes roll away. “Won it in a poker game.” Sometimes a white lie isn’t a white lie. It’s a diplomatic way of saying don’t ask. “Guess you don’t see many people.” She stops wiping and looks at him. He straightens on the stool, just watching her back, waiting to see if she’ll flinch under his stare but she doesn’t. He sees most of what she’s made of under the uniform and knows she doesn’t belong in it but she. I was in the back seat of the town car that had brought me into town from the San Francisco International. I was as happy as I had been in months. This was the deal of a lifetime and I had taken my law firm to the big time by putting it together. I was proud and couldn't wait to share the news with my wife Helene. Now we could go on that long-awaited vacation we had planed for months. Even better I had wrapped it all up two days early.As we passed the Palace Hotel on Market Street my tired eyes. We are quite primitive and coarse in many ways. We have a lot of sociological growing up to do. We need to learn how to get along with each other. It seems the people here are pretty friendly for the most part.Are the easy conditions because there is plenty of food? Maybe it is a localized phenomenon and these people are as warlike and unthinking as modern humans. Lord knows, the term "human history" is more about the history of war than anything else. Am I the only person to have ever noticed.