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And I for one am damn glad he did." So it is your statement that both Thomas and Blain Atwood died at the hands of Martin, aka The Irishman, and that ...oth were justifiable homicides?" Marshal asked."That is indeed my statement." I said."It is also your statement that there is audio and video recordings the verify your statement?" Marshal asked again."It is, except that we were not filming when Thomas tried to kill Martin with a knife, I'm told." I said."So you can't really say how Thomas died,". It reminded me of the wheels of a locomotive engine. If you every look at the shaft attached to the wheels it doesn’t jerk back and forth, it flows at the end in a circular motion and that is what her hand did, it never stopped at the end of a stroke. It was continuous motion. I really wanted to come right there and then because I couldn’t imagine anything being better but I held back just in case, hoping I wouldn’t regret it later. I also wanted to touch her breasts but again held back because. "OK. I have to admit that it will be a relief to not have to hide thisfrom the whole world like I've done for almost my whole life. I neverdreamed it would happen this way....with you. But I suppose it wasinevitable for it to happen at some point. And you are very mature foryour age and I have to trust that you will be careful. But......what youwant to do with the Electro-Jack now is out of the question. There stillhas to be limits on certain things we do together. Anything overtlysexual is out. "I couldn't help thinking about the old days with Fred. It wasn't all bad—only the end. Even then, the bedroom was never a problem." That's the way it was for Charlie and me, too," Maggie agreed."We used to really set the bed on fire when we were young," Pat said. "Fred was strong and he would bore in like a bulldog!" He still does," Maggie assured her. "I heard you and Charlie through the wall more than once during this time at the cabin. You don't seem to be suffering." I'm not complaining,".

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I need to think...”“Okay. You go ahead and think. Do you want to be held while you think, or should we retire to neutral corners?”“No. Hold me... Just like this. Well, maybe if we could just lay back a little. On pillows.”We nestled comfortably. I held her gently, no roaming hands, no thrusting hips, nothing. Not that I didn’t think about it. Or not think. On a purely physical level, those motions would have been pleasurable.Okay, I did succumb to the desire to touch her hair, idly playing with. Without giving it a second thought, I gave him a bear hug. The night had become refreshingly cool and fragrant. I was having a good time and I was grateful that he had drug me away from my solitude. He reached back into the cooler, retrieving another beer. All of a sudden, I was transformed back to simpler times, young again. I wasn’t pushing forty, I wasn’t a responsible taxpaying citizen. I was road farming, like I had done on so many lazy summer nights in my youth. I began to sing a song by. More

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