As most of you know, he has been killing people for three years now and has to be caught. I am assigning Jim Hartly and Charlie Weaver to the case.’...Aw, shit! I’m Jim Hartly and I got the assignment nobody wants. This Cupid fellow has caused the city havoc for the last three years in a row. Every year he kills one or two scumbags. He only does it on Valentine’s Day each year. That’s why it’s so hard to catch him. To the best of our knowledge, he only does it on that day and only kills scumbags.. I lifted my black leather miniskirt and exposed the tops of my thigh-high clad legs above my shiny strappy high-heels. I adjusted one of the garters attached to my black leather cincher and lifted the stocking that had descended during my services in the Mistress’s car. I pulled my black lycra panties to the side and pulled out my semi erect seven and three-quarters of thick pearly white cock. I pissed next to my car and felt the pressure caused in my crotch by the cock-shaped black anal. The petticoat is not worn around other people. Even within the home, it is not worn in front of others for longer duration of time. It is more or less like wearing a towel after bath. Nisha finished bathing and walked into the house and heard the doorbell. From the sound and frequency of the bell, she knew the person was ringing it for a long time. She couldn't hear it from the backyard. It might be her mother. She didn't want to make her wait any longer. She just went to the door in her. “Get in love,” Julie called to Michelle, “let me drive you the rest of the way home.” Michelle was angry and in no mood to talk with anyone, but her feet were killing her, from walking almost three miles in her nicest Kenneth Cole heels. “Thank you,” she said with a sniffle, and got into the car, trying to hide her tears and bloodshot eyes. The skirt showed off a good portion of her thighs as she sat, and she pulled her sweater tighter around the silk blouse she was wearing, shivering a bit.