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both wearing black dresses and six-inch heels.
    â€œDamn, are they twins?” Rah asked as he stared at their tight, petite bodies and small, firm asses. When Seven stopped the car, one lady went on each side and opened the door for them.
    â€œHello, gentlemen. Welcome,” the lady on Seven’s side said with a perfect smile and a flawless English accent.
    â€œWhat up, ma,” Seven greeted as he stepped out, handing her the keys so she could park his car in the back. Seven loved the way Hassan was living. It was a residence, but Hassan had a valet-type system with gorgeous women as valets.
    â€œRight this way, gentlemen,” the other Asian woman said as her twin sister got into the driver’s seat and pulled the car around. “Hassan has been waiting on your arrival,” she said as she began to lead them to the twelve-foot front door. Rah fell behind, trying to get a good view of the woman’s assets while being escorted into the house. When they entered the house, the sound of Prince’s song “Soft and Wet” lightly played throughout the mansion’s speaker system and the mixed smell of weed and incense danced through the air. The well-lit, spacious front room was equipped with marble floors that were so shiny they looked as if they had a layer of glass on them. The high cathedral ceilings were thirty feet high and painted with Arabian angels, all of them resembling Hassan’s face. The mansion never ceased to amaze Seven and Rah as they looked around and saw many women of different nationalities walking through the mansion; all half naked. The skimpy silk robes and exotic negligees were enticing to any man who walked in. It was as if Hassan was the Arab version of the infamous Hugh Hefner. His home was crawling with beautiful women and he was living every man’s fantasy. Moments later, Hassan came down the stairs with his all-white terry cloth robe on, complimented by Ferragamo suede house slippers on his feet. A glimpse of his abundance of chest hair peeked out the opening of his robe. Hassan had olive-colored skin and his long hair was neatly combed back into a ponytail that fell to the middle of his back. His Arab heritage was very evident in his physical features. Hassan had perfectly manicured nails and feet because of his metrosexual tendencies and narcissistic views on life. He approached Seven and Rah while smiling and extending his hand to Seven.
    â€œGood evening, my friend.”
    â€œHello, Hassan,” Seven answered as he shook Hassan’s hand firmly. Hassan nodded his head at Rah, but didn’t speak to him. He focused his attention back on Seven and opened his hand, waving it toward the den that sat in his tri-level mansion.
    â€œShall we?” Hassan asked as he led Seven toward the den. Seven leaned over to Rah and told him that he would be right back after negotiating with Hassan. Rah rubbed his hands together and stared at the thick Latino woman coming down the stairs in lingerie, and had no problem being left unattended. His eyes were glued on her huge breasts and her long-pointed nipples that showed through her see-through garments. Rah always loved to come to Hassan’s place with Seven. Hassan’s palace was like a 24-7 orgy waiting to happen and with Rah being a freak and all; he was in paradise.
    â€œTake your time, fam. Take your time,” Rah said as he began to follow the ass and perky, plastic-surgery tits into the main room.
    Seven followed Hassan into the den, which was on the lower level of the house. As Seven went down the stairs that led to the den, he noticed the mood and decorative theme had changed. The speaker system was turned off in the lower den and the all-white carpet made it look immaculate. The carpet was so soft, Seven felt like he was walking on pillows as he went across the floor. The Italian, white leather couches equipped with round, glass in-tables, and a huge plasma television that hung on the