I need a place to stay and I need a job.”This was a significant moment he would always remember. Kabir was an angry man from Russia, who had been a ...psychiatrist. Now, he was a cab driver, because he was in a country where they disregard doctor degrees earned in Communist nations. But, Kabir was gracious, he thinks.“You know what, you can stay in my basement.”He drove her to his house and took her to the bedroom in the basement.“You can stay here and work here.”Millie glanced around the room. It was on a fateful Sunday morning that she went with her loving parents to the church on Blueberry Lane to greet the new parson with his modern approach to putting more love into a Christian family’s religious appreciation. He preached love with a hands-on style that most of the females understood deep down in their feminine core. They learned the experience of physical devotion to the way of finding their way to salvation by generous giving of their inner secrets to the new preacher. They all. Apparently, his nearly naked appearance had fostered many discussions about how he had been injured. The explanations for his injuries included a past as a special services soldier, undercover cop whose cover was blown, and gangster that was on the run. He laughed them all off and explained that he was a simple college student.It was nearly dark by the time he arrived in front of his house. Ed Biggers strolled over and greeted him, “Howdy, neighbor.”“Hi, Ed. How are you doing?”“I’m doing. It wasn’t my preferred area, but I prefer eating to not eating. It happened that it was a holiday that the government observed but my company did not, so we went to the company office, where we had no assigned desks, to find some place to work.Now, the obligatory SOL erotica. My colleague and mentor, Sally, was a tall athlete with magnificent legs. Black hair was trimmed tightly around her head, in a most flattering way. She was, I guessed, almost 30. It was 1970, when short miniskirts were.