Somebody rang the bell in the afternoon and, as I headed to the front to open the door for him, I saw a virile, young man I reckon 26 yo., physically ...owerful, well built, beautiful muscles, with tattoos –I like this- the perfect man ideal, a model, to stroke my vulva. “Hi” he said. “I’m Alex. Nice to meet you, ma’am. Your father just hired me to fix a problem in the garden.” I interrupted him laughing: “Mr. Albert is my husband. Get in and check what you gotta do here.” I saw Alex took off. A short time later, I'd arrived at my destination with plenty of time tospare, and was soon seated in an office with Mrs. Ryan. Mrs. Ryan wasan older woman, who looked to be about the same age that my mother wouldhave been, if she was still alive. She was dressed in a flower printdress, and gave off the whole 'little old lady' vibe.After the polite introductions. Mrs. Ryan asked, "So, Ms. Morgan, whatare you looking for in your education at Whateley?" What do you mean?" I asked.Mrs. Ryan gave. She began stroking his cock gently as she lay beside him, feeling it growing hard, Paul caressed and sucked her tits, flicking his tongue on her big nipples.She sat up and kneeled beside him, and she took his cock into her hand, kissed and licked the tip, then began sucking it, Paul sighed with pleasure as felt her mouth take his cock again.She sucked his cock for a few minutes, and then swung her ass over his head, Paul grabbed it as she lowered her wet pussy onto his face, and he began. And, after a while, I didn’t like how it was so easy for me to take a life. That was complicated. I knew there were people who needed to be dead. But shooting a twelve-year-old girl because she might be wearing a vest and wouldn’t stop walking toward me killed part of my soul when I took her life. She wasn’t wearing a vest, as it turned out.So I overcorrected and decided to become the opposite of a patriotic assassin.That’s not fair. Most of the time they were shooting at us, too, or would have.