I opened it. It was like a piece of Hermès custom luggage. The rifle itself fit precisely in its designated slot. As did the scope. A smaller case he...d cleaning tools and a small leather bound book. I flipped through it — page after page of muzzle velocity, elevation data, windage.Matt handed me the rifle. “It’s hand-built. E. F. Huntington. Family company, mother and daughter now. They only make five or six a year.”What a beaut! The black matte rifle itself was clean-looking, simple. Good. It was a typical family arrangement in a country that put the family above happiness and where divorce was historically a disaster of biblical proportions.A looming shadow of a hulk of a man was cast over their table distracting them from their interesting private conversation. One of the "elbows on the bar" regulars was smiling like a drunken fool at Molly and introduced himself as "Mighty Mickey" stating that he could kick any man's arse in the pub. He could see the others at the bar laughing. Long blonde hair cascaded down past her shoulders and she smiled pleasantly, feeling a surge of vanity at what she'd always thought of as her best feature. The thought that it was a completely new feature never really dawned on her. "Oh my." a male voice said from behind her. A very familiar male voice. Snapping around, she saw a tall and somewhat athletic looking man standing there. He had red hair and a well-trimmed beard. The very sight of him brought a smile to her lips as she saw the lover. My fingers dropped along the side of her stomach then snuck down the back of her ass in one motion. i felt her panties through the thin fabric of her skirt. i didnt want to let go we all smoked and shot the shit outside, i was holding my own making jokes and being sociable when we decided to do jello shots inside. teresa lead us all inside and i followed close behind her. we passed through the living room full of more k**s our age with solo cups in their hands. some i knew from school, some.