’ ‘I’ve been there,’ the young woman remarked. ‘But that looks very good. Better than the hash I bought.’ ‘A friend of ours in Marrakech...got it for us,’ Phillippa replied, remembering Hamid’s rather shy smile. ‘You’ve been to Marrakech?’ ‘Just drove down from there this morning. Over the Tizi-n-Test.’ ‘It’s a beautiful road.’ ‘It was cloudy when we came down,’ David commented. ‘We didn’t see anything until we’d driven through it. Not so much fun driving, though. What’s your name?’ ‘My name?. ..no...no more...I've had too much...I need to go...where's my pants...' My partner took hold of my head and said '...lay your head down here baby, you're be alright in a minute...' I was too drunk to protest and lowered my head to his lap. I thought it strange that his pants was off and my head was on his left thigh and his rigid penis was rubbing against my lips. I was so drunk that I was being maneuvered by my rescuer to do as he wanted. I lost consciousness and when I came too, my legs were. More

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