"Are you Angel?" he asked. It seemed a simple question, with no obviousemotional overtones. She looked briefly at Lena, who nodded. "That's me. And yo... are...?" "Frank. Frank Donnelly. I hear you were the one who got rid of that SOBtheater manager a couple of weeks ago." "Where did you hear about that?" "My sister works there. She wasn't there when it happened, but she saw youthere later. Then she pointed you out. Thank you. You made her life a wholelot better." "You're welcome. But I really. Today is to be my last milking. I go in for surgery this morning. Everything or the last two years has been aimed at this surgery that awaits me. After my surgery I will be able to make love to Renee the way we have dreamed of for these last two years, if only our Mistresses will allow it. That's right, two years. The last two years has been the realization of dreams that have been a major force in my life as long as I can remember.Sleeping in an Iron Lung and being milked by our Mistresses are. The networks seemed to agree that hearing the screams and pleas of the condemned would be too traumatic.That would all come later.The wall of water roared on shore at something over sixty miles per hour, crushing every single thing it encountered. Buildings literally dissolved onscreen. Roads and bridges seemed to vanish in a blink.It was too much.And it could have been our west coast, instead of Turkey, Lebanon and Syria. Our families could have been crushed under billions of tons of racing. Gail was just as interested as I was. I paused in my task to watch. Tina spread her thighs and John’s fingers caressed her slit and penetrated her pussy. Given our immediate proximity to each other it was close up voyeurism at its best. Tina rocked her pussy under John’s fingers. Her climax came quickly. She was loud, vocal and frenetic. It was lovely to see them grin mischievously at each other when she returned to reality.John passed his oil bottle to me. “Your turn,” he challenged. I looked.