Not that I don't love having you here, but I'm in the mood for a good long session." I'm sorry," Laura said. "Listen, I'll go out. Just give me a few ...inutes to change and I'll leave for as long as you need." Skip it," Millie said, taking her arm. "I've got a better idea."Laura followed her down the stairs and into the den. When they entered the room, Fred looked up and smiled. "What's up, girls?" he said, staring at his sister's cleavage. "Jesus, Laura, can't you cover up? You're driving me. She glanced at the clock one more time, just to make sure that it really was seven o’clock, but the red glowing digits on the night stand indicated that now it was seven-o-two and counting! She stretched out, trying to get the circulation moving through her body, and felt her white cotton bikini panties pressing hard against her bulging vulva. The mere pressure from the thin material was enough to flood her vagina with pussy juice, causing her to automatically slip her hand inside her undies. She watched it dash the shield formation, scattering those that it didn’t immediately vaporize like multicolored bowling pins.There was a thud as the forty-millimeter grenade launcher cleaned up the survivors, then its wielder threw the weapon to the floor and cursed in his native tongue.“I’m out of shells, Alpha.”“Take up a rifle, and make sure your shots count,” Korza ordered. “We’re starting to run low on slugs.”They had been firing continuously for hours, and even the considerable stockpile. What could this mean? Emma wondered. Perhaps this was another employer, like her last, Sun TV, a holiday TV station, who were tightening up on the licence they allowed their staff. The Managing Director was a small man with a penchant for cigars, which Emma found thoroughly disgusting but she restrained the temptation to comment. His office resembled the office of most Managing Directors except for the scattered pictures of Harlot TV presenters in different degrees of undress. ‘This is going.
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