“So was I, I suppose. My mother simply calls me a ‘man-whore.’”Liz chuckled and shook her head. But at least her face relaxed.“I loved the a...tention that I had started to garner from the male of the species,” she said. “When I first got ... famous, I would flit from one guy to the next. I made sure all of them were high-profile and handsome. I would date them once or twice and then move on to the next. After a year or two of that, I decided that I would like a serious relationship ... with a. As soon as Zoya aunty saw me, she came to me and hugged me while I was still in my boxers with a hard on that was created by my mom’s horniness.Zoya aunty kissed me while hugging. She was wearing a black tank top and tight joggers. I could easily smell her armpit sweat and her body’s natural erotic scent from above her shoulders. I was so horny I could have fucked her there and then itself if my mom hadn’t been there in the scene.Both my mom and Zoya aunty didn’t wear any perfumes on them. The rifle held either a 10 or 20 shot clip of 162 grain bullets. I had a 20 shot clip loaded with steel piercing ammo and a suppressor on the barrel. It wasn't a silencer that was for small caliber guns with low velocities. They made a dull pop sound.My rifle was noisier, but still very hard to hear at the distances it was designed to kill.The rifle had a published range of 800 meters. But I was very good and managed to stretch out the range to 1000 meters. That's right, about 10 football. Rebecca wanted to let it slide for a while and see if it went away on its own. I was afraid she would opt to go away, instead of getting her problem to go away. Lots of relationships fail to survive the stresses of childbirth, and we had two, plus a new woman in our lives, so the potential for distress between us was much greater. Her rejection hurt, but I kept my pain off my face, and out of my voice. Rebecca didn't need to add guilt on top of whatever else she was struggling with.My days were.