”“John, I don’t think I can sleep with him if he comes to stay.”“There’s the spare room. That’ll be up to you. I’ll make the bed up, i... case.”Precisely an hour later, the phone once again rang. She picked up.“ ... John thinks I should talk to you.”“ ... Whenever.”“ ... OK.”She went to John.“He’s coming tomorrow; it’s the weekend. He’s at work today.”John felt a little apprehensive, and a growing suspicion that Claire would go back, despite her reluctance, especially now Peter had done what she. You know most people look better than their mugshot. Thomas Atwood had been the exception, but blain actually did look better. A whole lot better. If I weren't in town to destroy him, I might have screwed him.I wrapped my hand around the 410 gauge derringer in my coat pocket. If that thing went off it was going to ruin my coat and make a god awful mess of Blain's not to bad face."So you are the bad ass preacher lady?" he asked."I am and I suppose you are Blain Atwood, brother of the very rude. The woman at the counter, a heavier, middle aged woman saw me looking at them and politely asked if I was looking for myself or someone else. Blushing a little I replied that I was looking for a good anal toy for myself. I explained to her that I was a beginner and she smiled and showed me a 7in long glass one, about an inch around, but with a bulb at the head. She explained that her boyfriend's cock was quite big and at first she couldn't handle it, but that a little practice with that toy had. I told Holly when she returned, and we looked for them but they appear to have retired for the night.I asked for a piece of paper and pen, and we each wrote them a very heartfelt letter of thanks, and we both signed it and handed it to the bartender. He smiled and said he would have it sent to their room. Holly and I talked about how wonderful they had been, and I amazed at how much they had seen in their lives.“You know, they have lived through the Depression, a world war, and saw airplanes.