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“Well, you’d better get used to it stud” she quipped back as her mini skirt followed her thong up her legs. “and I will be getting that spunk in my cunt before long.” With a wink and a kiss she was gone. As I laid in bed, images of my many ladies parading naked through my head, I wondered again what had happened to make my life so different. I guess it was one of those rhetorical questions that I would never fully answer. But I fell asleep thinking that it was a wonderful question to have. A week later I was sat in a small room at the Ritz London. It was 11am, I was feeling fully refreshed from a night spent in possibly the most comfortable bed ever created by man. Another boring week had preceded the previous night, no more booty calls and little japanese more than a few messages off my ladies. Rachael couldn’t make it here last night, neither could Tiff, neither one could get the time off work. Even Chantelle and Bethany were taking the bus down later this afternoon and infuriatingly, I still hadn’t heard off Jess. I had almost expected company from the moment I had learnt about the complimentary suite, but it had never materialised, even the complimentary limo to the hotel from home was spent alone. Either way, right now I was still sat in a small room. In front of me was a medium sized wooden table and on the other side of that were two men. They had introduced themselves as Michael and Steven - no surnames – and they were about to conduct an interview on behalf of Card player magazine. “… of course, none of what we discuss in this interview will be released to the public until after the competition has finished.” Steven – the chatty one - was saying, I already knew this from the contracts I had to sign before the interview. “So, what we’d like is an informal chat about how you do what you do and how it feels being the favourite.” Normally, this teens would have been a perfectly normal and reasonable thing for a journalist from one of the most respected gambling publications in the country to ask. Except this guy was full of shit. “I can’t see any problems with that” I played along. I had spotted the lie almost as soon as they had started talking, neither one of these men had the first clue about poker and kept referring to the Royal flush I’d had in one of the previous games. A Royal flush is the best known and highest hand in the game, I had never been lucky enough to hold one… ever. What really oriental made it obvious though is that Steven kept shifting his eyes, up and to the left – accessing the part of the brain responsible for creative thinking, also used for lying. If they were going up and to the right, - the part of the brain responsible for memory – I wouldn’t have thought anymore about it, but this guy was a truly awful liar. The next clue had come when they had mentioned hearing about the paper I had written in college. I had called it ‘the fallible art of lying, interrogation techniques for law enforcement.’ – a title they had quoted word-for-word - It had been picked up by the legal community very quickly asian and as such, it had been removed from the public domain, any search for it now would come back empty – unless you were in law enforcement. “Doctor, thank you for your time. I loved it. Then snuggles up to one another. The goddess had a new gag in her mouth. My big breasts bounced and jiggled. He saw she was shaven and he was asian again surprised by the little tart. Soccer Mom Screws up 2 She broadcasted to the world her new personality changes. The bouncer scanned the list, “Alright, you’re on oriental the list. We are far from polite, and terribly difficult to offended,” I said. “No, I’d kill your bloody mother if I was you,” I said as I japanese approached the bed, “Don’t fret lass, I never had to force a bloody wench to fuck me in me bloody life.” She was excited to play. “Come now come now,” the Caravan Master spoke hurriedly, trying to press some authority into teens his low rough voice, “no one is looking for a fight, what’s going on here?” My family, they haven’t done anything to you.”