“Okay, that’s terrible,” I admitted.“It is,” she agreed with a giggle. “The point is though that you need to understand, girls use sex as ...a weapon, a tool, a crutch, a status symbol and anything else they can think of. The girls thought that doing that would hurt you because it would have hurt them if you’d done it. It might have actually hurt them worse that you didn’t, but they won’t realize that unless you point it out to them. It’s not their fault really. Society puts so much emphasis on. I combed my hair, applied a little lip balm and then turned to look at my boss, who was lying naked in my bed. “What happened to our new deal, Boss?" I asked. "You were working quite hard on that.” “The client is saying that the price is a little high,” Boss told me. I sometimes called him with his name, but he never liked it and said that he wanted me to call him, Boss. Boss’s company used to design security systems for offices and homes, and for the past few days, Boss had been working on. She saw me gawking at her and began to giggle noticeably. Her laughter slowed and she directed her eyes downward.It was then that I realized that I was rock hard again. Somehow, I didn’t even notice. She had not said a word since my humiliation at the kitchen table. I had only said a few. The tension had been building.She broke the silence by saying, “Looks like you are good to go, cowboy. Let’s ride!”We shared a laugh. It was exactly what I needed to hear.Thank you, Succubus.I took a second to. "How do you feel about Black People, Mr. Brenneman?" She had finally settled on an opening, if not exactly one that went right to the point."Which black people?"She looked agitated. "You know what I mean! Are you biased against Black People?"I looked at her evenly, thought for a moment, and said "Yes."She sat back suddenly, as though I had slapped her, her eyes wide with surprise. The lack of malice in my smile helped allay the harshness of my response, however, and she at least had the sense.