When Colin returned from work, he found his girlfriend Margaret O'Sullivan packing for her trip to Santalina. "So, you're really on your way! Who are you going with?"
"Oh, Emma Anderson and a couple of her friends," she replied in her Irish accent. "You'll never guess... do you remember that DJ from the club last month? Sexera?"
"Uh, yeah," Colin replied nervously. He remembered well enough, and certainly better than she did. She no doubt recalled as some harmless drunken flirting with the DJ, but he remembered the man as a sexual predator who said he would give "that white girl a black baby." When Colin objected and told him he was the boyfriend, Sexera threatened to have them kidnapped, him murdered and her gangbanged by his crew. Fortunately, Colin had been able to escort his girlfriend safely out of the establishment shortly after.
"Well, he's on our flight, and Emma has me sitting next to him!" she laughed conspiratorially. "And you probably thought I'd never see him again! I think he still owes me a drink!"
Colin felt a sudden weight in the pit of his stomach as he visualized the sneering musician drive his sturdy cock into his wimpering woman. "Make sure you raise my child right!" Sexera bellowed triumphantly.
"Uh, Maggie, do you think it's such a good idea?"
"Oh, don't worry so much," she teased, leaning over to kiss him. "I'll bring you back a souvenir."
All he could do is miserably help her out with her luggage. "Be careful," he cautioned. "Those guys like white girls."
"What guys?" she asked disapprovingly. "Oh, Colin, don't get all protective and racist. You sound like my father."
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