I thought he should not be that way either.I walked over to talk to him. “Why are you yelling at those women?” I asked.“They’re Mexican.”“...So?”“This is our country. They don’t belong here.” By now I could tell that he was harmless, possibly homeless, drunk, and twice my age. “Everyone in this country who is not an Indian came from somewhere else, or their ancestors did.” I said. “Where did you come from?”“I’m Portuguese,” he admitted. Recognizing the difficulty of his position he smiled, shook. "Lila kissed Aisha, "Thank you for everything."Lila descended the stairs; she expected the basement to be stuffy, hot with the flames of braziers, to hear the wailing of the condemned, the screams of the tortured. Instead she entered a plain, air-conditioned room, with an unlit fireplace, a leather armchair and, on the wall, instead of shackles, she saw long bookcases. A figure, a tall, dark man, sat on the armchair, a book in his hands."Good evening," he said, standing up politely; he seemed. I went to her hotel on time. The beauty was standing there and waiting for me. She was in one piece and I can not even tell you guys how sexy she was looking. We hugged and I complimented her that she is looking so beautiful and opened the door of the car for her. She thanked me with the big smile.We had a dinner and talked almost an hour. She was so happy. (I told you guys, to be with girls. You have been an awesome listener=pro tip from my side) after a dinner, she invited me to her hotel for. I guess I was stuck as a girl until I could get home.I searched quickly around the room to see if Sasha could have stashed my ordinary clothes anywhere, but, not finding them, I resigned myself to the short skirt and camisole. I had to admit, I wasn't wholly disappointed to be leaving girly clothes behind just yet. I had really enjoyed the way it had felt to dress and act like a girly slut earlier on and, even though I was nervous about doing it outside, I figured it would feel pretty good.