”“Did Rachel say anything important?”“No. She handed me off to Patrick. I wanted to know whether they wanted the house.”“I bet not.”“Y...u’d win, I think. They’re going to the house about two nights a week, so it seems to be inhabited. But they’ve not moved. And I’m fairly certain that I don’t want it. It contains over five years of ghosts, plus the other things from the previous decades.”“Not like Korngold’s protagonist?”“What?”“Erich Korngold wrote an opera, The dead city in which Paul, a. He is tall and fit, at about 6' 3" in stocking feet. He's the Outdoorsman Extraordinaire. He's a great husband and father. An expert marksman and fast draw artist, Bob is ambidextrous. He's an all around woodsman and very capable. He can stalk the most skittish game and get close enough to shoot with his handgun. He's an investment banker by trade, and he has lots of time to pursue his outdoorsman hobby.Dana Malone, 34, is his adoring wife and an avid camper. She can cook anything, and make it. Grabbing her knees I showed her what I meant. Firmly. It was quite a sight, actually. I placed my thumb and index finger on either side of her sopping wet clit and pressed them together, holding it there, still. Motionless, watching her. I then squeezed her clit back and forth between my two fingers, watching her. Faint female sounds, music to my ears sounds escaped her from deep within. Nothing deliberate, nothing theatrical, but real. Anything rehearsed pisses me off. Turns me off. She was. Once he felt the tip of his cock enter me, he steppedforward and unceremoniously rammed his entire lengthinto me, making me gasp with the suddenness andferocity.His fore-paws then wrapped tightly round my waist so hecould pull himself into me as deeply as he could get ‘rocking me back and forth with the powerful thrusts.So far it was going well, and apart from his dew-clawsscratching my sides and making them sting like hell, itfelt okay! I was easily taking the length of his cock,and his.