It had a malicious tinge to it that bespoke of horrors I couldn’t begin to contemplate. ‘Lift up your skirt,’ he said, sitting back down again. ... put my hands to the hem of the skirt and raised the material. It was then that I realized that I could see myself clearly in the mirrors behind his family’s well-stocked bar. I was looking at myself looking at myself, the back of Tony’s head also reflected in the expanse. What I couldn’t believe — I had to look down to confirm it — is that my cock was. At least, they didn’t think I had some sort of white man agenda that included genocide or improvised deportation from their own country of origin.I remember I had mixed feelings about the Custer massacre because my head was with the Seventh Cavalry and all those troopers with second-rate rifles and at the same time my gut was with the brave warriors saddened over the loss of their hunting grounds and the end of the waves of buffalo that roamed wild over the silent plain. I think the Indians. More

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