"So how did you manage that feat with a creature that big?" another reporter asked."Well, at that point Dickem is the one that gets the credit. We wer... all running scared, but Dickem and his balls of steel had the nerve to attack it with the gas bombs," Jack replied."So you're the big hero, then," a reporter said to Karl."No, leave me out of it. Miss Deeper is the center of our story. Without her, we wouldn't have had a chance at Dong. He was after her when he came to us." A regular Beauty and. Not a line of stress, not a trace of tension anywhere to be found. This bed in this room like a safe harbor protected from the ravages of the outside waters of the world- where currents and waves rage against the rocks of the outer reef. Safe, warm, heavy and relaxed, and they both know this feeling from many times before so they know that they can achieve this ultimate state of being again and again by merely melting into each other. The soft flickering of the red digits on the clock seems to. I'd call it pensive, except that my thoughts aren't really coherent enough for that. It's a sit-in-front-of-the-fire day, and my spouse and the cat and I are doing just that. She's on one couch reading today's New York Times (my wife, I mean, not the cat), and I'm on the couch opposite her, my laptop on my lap, the cat between us at a comfortable distance from the fire. I know that if I put my hand down on the cat's belly, a reliable compass for telling which direction the fire is in, as if. She popped the can and took a sip, while I did the same. ‘Mmmm. Perfect—that hits the spot.’ ‘Absolutely.’ As she took another deep swallow with her eyes closed and her head tilted right back, I took the opportunity to look her over. She really was very tasty. I could see her nipples under her shirt, atop lovely, shapely handfuls of breast, and her taut slender neck as she drank her beer. Her waist was slim, her belly-button exposed between her shirt and jeans mini. ‘Take a seat,’ I suggested.