I took a second to check out his figure, those long legs, and that muscular back I had come to know so well last night. He looked behind at me, his ey...es shining. Stubble covered his chin, making him look ultra sexy. I walked over slowly, keeping my eyes fixed on his firm buttocks. As I neared him, he spun round quickly, landing his lips on mine, surprising me. I gasped, and he took the opportunity to invade my mouth with his tongue. He possessed my mouth, his hands moving up to my breasts. This. He was happy about that. It was obvious.Tomas was not the father. The baby was entirely Omar's and Mara's. Yet, rather than be a matter of anger, or frustration, Tomas was pleased that Omar was the father of the baby, rather than his. But even though he knew that Mara loved him, she had not wanted a baby by him; though she certainly wanted to have c***dren---just not his, and not with a white male. Rather, Mara wanted to have babies by black men, and, more than that, she wanted to have,. "He watched as she picked up her backpack and headed for the door. She stopped and gave him a little wave. He stood, looking out his window until he saw her climb aboard a city bus.Rich wadded his burger wrapper into a ball and stuffed it into his empty soda cup. He tossed them into the trash and headed out of the student union and across the quadrangle. Someone waving caught his eye.He headed in that direction. "Gretchen?" I didn't expect to see you on campus," she replied. "I sent you an. ”“That will take special orders for sure Ma-am,” the dispatcher replied.“Special orders from whom?” I asked.“There is a list. I will have to check with the duty officer. Who is requesting the flight?”“Ambassador Jones, chairperson of the Terrorist Task Force,” I replied.“I will need to call you back; number please?” he asked.“202-555-1600,” I replied.“Thank you Ma-am, I will call you back as soon as he can check,” he replied.Less than five minutes later the dispatcher called back.“Ma-am,.