?Hey, horse-boys,? the cow-poke called to us. He took his cheroot and stuck it right up her bum hole as if she was smoking it. The slave-girl squealed...as the men laughed."Eyes front," I commanded. I didn't want the men getting carried away with the girls' charms. Soon we were out of the dusty town and riding along the trail to the hacienda. Tall grass waved over the savannah as we rode past.We reached the hacienda by late afternoon. The rancher, Senhor Helder Balduini and some of his vaqueros. She was also wearing large practicalcotton aprons when on duty so you had the impression that she was lookinglike a slightly old-fashioned housewife rather than maid.And then something had happened that drastically had changed our lives.My father simply had announced one morning that he was leaving us! He wasgoing to move out. I was 22 when that happened and in my last year ofstudies.I still vividly remember that cool spring morning when after breakfast myfather addressed me in the presence of. More

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