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This had made for some creative explanations at times, but the anthropologist remained totally ignorant of his wife's activities. Renee had disclosed that only this past weekend, Christine had spent a night at an exclusive estate performing fellatio on and being mounted by a number of large dogs for the amusement of her masters. Martin often fought with himself as to whether to tell his friend, but Renee assured him that Christine was happy with her secret life and telling Ben would probably only serve to break up the marriage making them both miserable."Ben, some time ago, you mentioned a plant or tree of some sort in a remote African society." Martin, you're not serious! The Mabuka tribe is real and yes, they have a legend about the Luaki Tree, but it's just that, legend." But you said there had been some expeditions." Well, yes. Anderson in '52 and Greenwald in '77, but all they brought back were stories the tribesmen had shared with them about a tree that renews life in the. Mandy stepped in and I locked the dead bolt behind us. The room had a small French-style balcony set of doors, which opened to the street below. I opened them and immediately the rush of tawdry and bawdry noise rushed up to meet us.Mandy leaned on the railing, as I stood next to her. I slipped a set of beads over my head and tossed them down to a group of young college-aged girls standing in the street. One of them quickly flashed her breasts in our direction, so I tossed her another set of beads.Three college-aged guys started chanting- yelling up at Mandy.“Boobs! Boobs! Boobs!”Mandy looked at me.“Should I?” she asked.“Go for it,” I said.Mandy stepped back inside the room and stripped out of her t-shirt and her brassiere, then redonned her massive seat of Mardi Gras beads. She stepped back to the railing and the crowd went crazy, with folks trying to throw beads up to our third-floor window.Mandy stepped back inside after only a few seconds, red with embarrassment.“Don’t get me.
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