”“Again?” I smile. “What do you have to be nervous about?”The woman looks into the camera, eyes not quite focused. “I’m nervous because ... don’t know what you… want.”I smile again. “What do you think I want?”“I don’t know.”I let my tongue slide across my lips, savouring the moment. “Cup your breasts.”The woman does as she is told, her hands supporting the weight of her mammaries.“Now push them together.”Again she complies, looking more nervous than ever.Again I savour the moment. “Is your. The Fighter's Law dictates that when two combatants are locked in combat, that the winner of the fight becomes the owner of the loser. Simple, easy, and clean. Just winners, losers, owners, and slaves. It's a wonder how something so simple fucked everything up so royally.The Fighter's Law was an edict declared by the God of Conquest, whether it was an act of contempt or one of shear boredom matters not anymore, to survive is the only option for the inhabitants of New Heartland.And now, the. ..as usual the other players were clearing out of the gym and i went over to talk to her. today was especially hot and she was in the tightest shortest top and shorts i ever saw. it took great power not to look at her sexy form leaning against the wall smiling at me. half-way into the conversation i finally can't hold it anymore and glance a peak at her breasts and legs and tried to get a view of her ass. just barely.i think she caught me because she turned her head to the side and smiled and. 4 of whom are buried in their smart phones. One, a slim red-head with freckles, has averted her eyes from her phone just long enough to smile at me. All five girls must be in their early twenties and I am 43 this year. I’m in a coffee shop adjacent to my hotel waiting for a client to show. That’s until I receive a text ‘it’s not going to happen today Dave.’ Being a little pissed-off I decide to finish my coffee and then pop around the corner to my hotel, when I sneezed.They, the girls, seem to.