The reporters all surged towards the door we exited.Two of the security men, the largest two of the lot – a pair of mean looking men in black suits ...ith black shirts and black ties, black sunglasses, plus large bulges in their pockets where they carried obvious weapons - stayed behind in the room to secure the door and keep anyone from following us. The remaining four security men hustled us down several corridors almost at a run. There was no conversation other than instructions on how to. “But we have to find a more secluded place.”I took her hand in mine as she pulled the part to her tunic closed and we quickly made out way down the hallway and into another ballroom, which was empty, save a few stacks of chairs and tables. We found a secluded place behind the stacks of tables and in an instant, my hot little nurse had dropped to her knees in front of me, fumbling with the opening to my trousers.“I think your peg leg needs a little attention,” she remarked, pulling my nine-inch. This had been going on long before I came into the picture. She'd fucking said so ... but I didn't want to hear that did I? No. I fucking didn't want to believe that anyone I loved could fucking rip my fucking guts out and watch me slowly bleed to fucking death.As always I was willing to bear the brunt. I was willing to be the fucking doormat that the whole goddamn world could walk right over. Welcome, just dry your fucking feet off on the Marc. Don't mind him, he can carry the weight of the. She wore a white blouse and black pants tucked into good work boots, much like a man would - working around the farm in a dress was difficult at best and she and Grandfather had thought it ridiculous to try. She was as comfortable in mens clothing as women's but when out in public, off the farm or when visitors were expected, she was a perfect lady. She grabbed her hat - much like the men wore also - wide brim to shade her eyes with a rawhide tie under her chin. She also had her work gloves.