It wasn’t heat from the temperature, it wasn’t heat from the drink, and it was a heat from lust. I was fantasizing about Nina and I in the throws...of passion. She stood up and started speaking in almost hushed, melodic tones. She was weaving a tale of erotic delight; she was hypnotizing me with her words.“The beauty,” she said, “of Sapphic delights is in the slow build, the smoldering fire that ignites the flames of passion. The beauty of interracial pleasures is in the contrast. Your body. As I fought to regain my balance my mind kept focusing on the horrific events surrounding of Julie's death. My guilt-ridden mind had often revisited that terrible incident, searching for some elusive clue, some key event, something that I should have seen, and something else I could have done, anything that could have prevented Julie's death. My rational mind realized that even with the new procedures in place I couldn't keep it from happening again if I couldn't understand exactly what I. More

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