One picture was pinned to the notice board with the title: Whose ass is this? It was excruciatingly embarrassing, especially as I had a spot on one of...my cheeks. This proved to be vital in the interrogation of the photocopied ass. "It's quite easy," declared the self-appointed ass hunter, Julie, a tall thin brunette who stood at the front of the office pointing at the picture. "We go to the toilets for a line-up, we all bare our asses, and whoever has a spot in the approximate location is the. Leslie was... unusual. She would speak as though sex was a sin, and she would go on about the Rapture, and she really seemed to BELIEVE... But, in the next breath, she would see the outline of a cock in someone's pants and lick her lips. I spent a lot of time talking with her and she had an incredible sex drive, combined with an intense guilt about it.After a semester or so of steadily increasing testosterone levels, I finally convinced Leslie she should give me a try. We were both unattached. ‘Tradecraft’ had come up in the spy novels of John le Carré.“There will be times over the next few months, not to mention the rest of your life, when you won’t have a bodyguard beside you. You need to be trained in spotting threats before they become problems. You also need a last line of defence.”He stared at me as I figured out what he meant. “You want to teach me how to kill someone?”Ed stepped in. “We’re not turning you into an assassin, Finn. Nor do you need to be an expert in martial. I walked to the bed and turned to him. He dropped the negligee on the dresser. "Wait," he said and stepped into the bathroom. He returned with a bottle of lubricant and a hand-towel. He set them on the bed and said, "Strip me, slave." I went to him and pulled the mesh tank top over his head, tossing it onto the growing pile of sexy clothes on his dresser. The garter-belt slid to the floor. I knelt and slid the briefs down his legs. I leaned in to him and licked the head of his still moist cock,.