“That man you met with was Bartle? You just met with the man Santini paid you to kill?”Goran chuckled, “Yes, Cat. That was Bartle. And the two m...n you so expertly occupied to give us time to talk in private where his sons.”* * *Cat had had no clue about what was happening the previous night and it had all seemed very mysterious to her from the beginning when they left the borsin in a seclude part of the forest so thick it managed to hide even something as big as him. They had entered the. I unlocked the door and she got in without saying more than Hi. I pulled away quickly, being very nervous about the possibility of being seen or worse yet, caught in the act of soliciting or something. As I drove she asked what I wanted. I stammered a bit as I hadn't thought about what I wanted, I wanted her. So, I told her that. "I want you." "Well, that's pretty fuckin' obvious, Pops. Now that you have me in the car what do you want from me?" "How about we start with a little respect, young. I could also feel myself getting very wet. After several nice dances, he said, "Why don't we go?" I said fine, and we exited the restaurant. On the way back to my house, I let my hands go to his very hard cock. He smiled and said he liked that. I petted his cock and massaged his balls. He pulled over to the curb, turned and gave me a wonderful, wet, deep kiss. His eyes were so beautiful. As they looked deep into mine, he asked if I was his for the night. I told him by all means. He kissed me. Shrubs and creeping plants covered the windows, and hid from the garden and court these two apartments, the only rooms into which, as they were on the ground-floor, the prying eyes of the curious could penetrate. On the floor above were similar rooms, with the addition of a third, formed out of the ante-chamber; these three rooms were a salon, a boudoir, and a bedroom. The salon down-stairs was only an Algerian divan, for the use of smokers. The boudoir up-stairs communicated with the.