The Comanches appeared to be gathering themselves for a headlong charge at the soldiers using their favorite weapon, the lance. Okay, I had no time to...fool around. I opened fire with the shotgun against my belly and held the trigger back. I moved the pump action as fast as I could and sprayed buck and ball into the mass of the Comanches. They had not seen me behind them until I began shooting, and I shot 11 shells as fast as I could register the gun after each shot.I dropped that magazine and. No way I could hide this.Turns out his name was Eric and he was from Madison, Wisconsin. He'ddriven on his motorcycle for the past three weeks and hadn't come acrossanyone. Eric said he'd have passed me by except for the beautifulMercedes made him take a turn off the highway. My beach house was justoff Hwy 91. Of course with the waves I hadn't heard his motorcycle but hesaid when he looked down the beach and saw my beach chair and my 'sexylegs.' Like he could tell from up there they were sexy?. “Sky, meet Jennifer. She’s our head of computers and communications,” the Commander said as she gave the African lady a slightly sloppy smooch of sisterly affection. The many hugs and frequent kisses reinforced morel and mood the same way common affection synchronized immune systems. Everyone got what everyone had.The center of the chief’s attention was a beautiful black woman in her mid-thirties. She carried with her an air of grace and casual beauty, which radiated certain innocence from. He quickly bending, to remove his shoes socks and the jeans from his feet, her just dropping the skirt and stepping out daintily. Arms again entwined, the electric blue panties contrasting against her pale skin tone perfectly, his eyes big brown saucers as he appraised her smooth body, the hose held up by the tiny thin straps and clips flexing with every move against her white legs. He knelt down kissing at her belly then the rim of the panties, she holding his head with both hands, she knew at.