He was maybe five feet tall. Bald, wrinkled all over with white wire eyebrows that shot straight out about an inch over eyes in an ugly tangled mess. ...is ears were too small for his head. ‘Hello,’ I said. ‘Something of a Casanova, are you?’ He asked. His voice was high-pitched with an obscene wheedling quality to it. I didn’t like him, or trust him one little bit. ‘Who are you?’ He chuckled, ‘Call me Tiny,’ he said, as if it were the funniest of jokes, like maybe you’d call a big fat guy Tiny. Jamal reached out behind my wife and put his hands on her thighs as they looked at each other in the mirror; he started kissing her neck and moved his hands up to her breast, as she rubbed her ass against the huge bulge that could be seen inside his jeans. Anna turned around and they started kissing passionately; the black man put his hands on her ass and then moved them up to unzip her dress. My wife wriggled out of her dress and got down on her knees, unbuckling his belt as she looked into. More

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