Charles was very impressed by the view from the living room. Just past the glass windows that went from the floor to the ceiling, there was an Olympic size pool. Inside of the pool, there was an unobstructed view to the ocean. To the left, you could see the marina and the towers of apartments and condos that lined the beach. The house was to be a base of operation and a break from completing the quest. The realtor was describing the amenities of the property, but he wasn't listening. He wanted the property because of the location. It was near South Miami Beach.

"How much is it again," Charles asked.
"It's two and a half million, sir."

"I will pay two million cash."

"Cash, sir?"

"Yes, the offer is good for twenty-four hours. My daddy always said, never be in debt."

Charles cleared his throat. He slipped back into the southern slang of his ancestors from Alabama. He had bought diction tapes and used them on the planes and trains to shed his hillbilly past, be more sophisticated, and hide the less than eighth-grade education. It was unbelievable to him that you could pay that much for a house. His daddy paid just eight hundred dollars for the trailer they lived in and called himself a business owner for fixing cars in the yard and drive way.

"If the offer is acceptable, I will wire the money to the seller's bank account."

He didn't want him to think that he was a drug dealer and would show up with a briefcase full of money.

"I will call the seller, sir." He walked outside to talk in private on his cell phone.

Charles stood and looked out the window. There were numerous sail boats on the water, and he could see the yachts at the marina. A boat was out of the question. He had almost drowned in Smith's Pond when he was just a kid and was scared of the water. The pond was a big hole a farmer had dug that filled with rain water and was used to water the cattle and horses. It was the only relief they got from those hot summer days. By owing beach property, he wouldn't be a country hick, and it was time for a break. In less than six months, he traveled from Chicago, to Mexico, Las Vegas, Thailand, Japan, Canada and now Miami.

"The sellers counter offer is two, point, two million, sir."

Charles smiled. He liked being called sir. It was much nicer than a redneck, or hick.

"That's fine, draw up the paperwork, and I will contact my bank."

He was tired and didn't want to haggle anymore and was expecting some questions about the money, but he did look the part in the Armani Suite, and Italian Loafers. His hair and nails were impeccable. He arrived in a top of the line Cadillac, could afford any car, a Porsche or a Maserati. They were too flashy. The purpose was to project the image that he came from a family with money and didn't have to show it off. He was trying to buy class.

"I could stay in a hotel tonight."

"We should be able to conclude the transaction today. The house has been on the market a long time, and they are eager to sell. I'm sure you can have the keys by the end of the day."

The place was completely empty.

"I need some furniture."

He got on his laptop, and within two hours, arranged the delivery of a complete bedroom, dining, and living room set. One store had offered to send over an interior-design consultant. He didn't have to be that sophisticated just needed something to sit and sleep on. He sat in his car waiting for the delivery and pondered how far he had come. Before the transformation, he was living in a tiny, studio apartment on the south side of Chicago. As a child, he grew up in a one-bedroom house and had to sleep on a cot in the kitchen.

The sun was setting. He was now sitting on a white leather, couch, twirling the keys to the house on his finger. It had been a very eventful day, and he should be tired but was energized. He opened the laptop and went to the favorites list. On it were five Mail-Order Bride Sites. Recently, he was thinking about buying a wife. He wanted someone who could be Martha Stewart in the kitchen and Elvira in the bedroom. Today, there was the need for something more immediate, so he searched the local ads for escorts trying to decide what he was in the mood for.

There were ads for lady boys. He got a taste of them in Thailand preferring the ones with a natural chest with no implants. It was nice when they were hairless. When he got a cab at the airport in Bangkok, he told the driver that he was looking for women. He offered to take him to a place where he could get children, guaranteeing that they would be five or six years old. Charles was interested in women at the other end of the spectrum. In his month-long stay, he would learn about sexual tourism where men would come to purchase children something that would get you years in jail back in the states. The driver took him to the Soi Cowboy. It was like Mardi Gras but with elephants in the streets. Go-go bars lined both sides of the streets with dozens of women in each one. They would go to your hotel room for a special massage. Of course, it was not prostitution because you were paying for the room and not the women. In one bar, the women wore just pink bathrobes. For two weeks, he was a regular at Spice Girls taking a different one every night, one night; he took three. They were so young, and petite. At the Cockatoo, he got his first taste of lady boys. They were so cute and truly liked the ones in miniskirts and boots. He put three on retainer, and they would come to his hotel. He never sucked them; they just bounce up and down on him, one after another. They had such sweet, tight, little buts, and they loved to kiss and make out. Once in a while, he would have all three of them at the same time. He would go from ass to ass, hole to hole, doing each one for a few strokes until one of them took his load. If he could, he would pay for every man to experience, once in their lives, having three mouths on them. There were also restaurants that cooked the food right out in the open so the smell of food floated down the street. Once he couldn't get hard for the third one, so he went on the hunt for supplements. In a shop located down an alley, an old man who spoke very excellent English looked at his tongue and said he was extremely healthy. When Charles told him, he wanted something, to stay hard; the old man said he was ninety two even though he looked two hundred. He called for someone in the back, and a young girl came out looking like she was twenty. He said that it was not his granddaughter but his wife. So he took the Red Kwao Krua that he recommended. The old man told him to take two. He took four thinking it would work twice as fast and much longer. It made his heart race. He thought that it was a heart attack. Two pills made him strong like a bull for hours. Before leaving Bangkok, he bought a year's supply and got on a regiment of one pill three times a day.

Since the best way to get back to the United States was through Japan, he stayed there for a week. Unlike Bangkok, where it was hurry and get into the room and do it, so they could move on to the next and where time was money, in Japan, they took their time. It was meant to be more of a classy experience. Six to ten girls would line up in matching outfits showing very little. He would pick out a girl. He would have tea then sit in a large tub. They would get on their knees and wash him. Next, there was a massage where they would walk on his back then they would ask what he wanted. He couldn't believe how hairy they were. He enjoyed sucking a woman if she tasted good, but it was like a black forest down there. Some of them were big on top compared with the Bangkok women who mostly were flat chested but with big, dark nipples.