I got out of the car, and walked voluptuously towards the entrance, although my legs felt wobbly. There was a ding-dong when I opened the door and ent...red. I could not see anyone, but then I noticed a guy behind the counter reading a magazine. He did not look at me. When I walked towards him, my stilettos gave that characteristic sound, so he turned around. He stood with his eyes wiiide open. I am chubby but well proportioned, but my breasts are extremely large, and his reaction was exactly. "Do you own a rifle," asked Abernathy."Sure. Two of them as a matter of fact. One is a revolutionary era flintlock, the other is an 1840's flintlock. Nice weapons, if a little awkward to fire. I have never fired the revolutionary war rifle at all. I have fired the 1840's one though. These guys were shot by flintlocks?" I finished questioningly."No. Do you own any rifles or pistols or handguns of a more modern time than the ones you have mentioned?" Agent Bradford asked me."A shotgun I inherited. Like a place to eat or something?"The elder's tone took on one of rebuke, "Because, you haven't even attained junior status rank and here you are questioning the interpretations of some of the finest minds we have on our planet. The symbols we have found on the destroyed planet closely match those of our religion and the most sacred symbols we have. Because of the importance of the symbols, obviously our priests and religious leaders are correct. What you're suggesting borders on blasphemy. You. Erin had been bringing her car here for years since she first got behind the wheel with her dad when she was seventeen and proceeded to bunny-hop the thing straight into the garage door.She unfolded her legs once more, this time pinning her thighs together. Maybe she’d feel a little less uptight if she acted more like a primary school teacher than a sexy secretary.“You all right over there?” The gruff voice was muffled as he continued to work under his cover, but it sounded exactly how she knew.