. if he had to do so? He didn't know. One thing he did know: There could be no such thing as a three to one fight... with the loaded gun in his hand.A...station wagon, standing at the curb on the opposite side of the avenue, attracted his attention. A stockily built man labored, in shirt sleeves, to change a flat tire. It was almost one o'clock in the morning. There was no traffic. The man was alone.Don rode on for two more blocks. He wrestled with an idea he couldn't shake. It was late. The guy. These were obviously very devout Christians.The next several minutes of picking up people and stripping them were so similar to what I'd done to the last mob - even in the number of people involved - that I won't bother going into any details except for noting a few variations.I didn't club anyone, mainly because this crowd had only stood outside our gates and ranted nastily whereas the previous mob had been intent on storming our property and doing God knows what once they were inside. It was. "I ain't make it yet sir." You don't get ova this girl, you won't make it at all." He seemed to realize that statement didn't go over well. "Peter, listen. You young, you good looking. You'll find another girl. Don't worry 'bout that. Put that energy into getting your time down. Work out uh couple extra hours. Get some sleep."I snorted at that; I hadn't had a good night's sleep since the night of the dance."Oh." The Coach moved his arm. "You got uh little too much 'energy' ta sleep, huh?"Not a. "One," I mumble. "Louder!" I try to gain the strength to vocalise more loudly, but the effort makes the tears come. My eyes prick. "One," I sob, more loudly. I'm tenser now. My cunt is gaping and exposed. I want you inside me. Teasing my lips, and then filling me to the womb with your delicious precious length. "crack" Right buttock. Balancing the continuing warmth from the left. I howl. My field of vision sparkles as my overloaded brain tries to make sense of the sensory input. But I.