I was confident that I could handle him. He’s a little bigger than me, but he’s gone soft sitting in his patrol car all day. We met at the gym las... night after his shift. I gave him one last chance to change his attitude. I told him that once we got into the ring that I would not show him any mercy. To make a long story short, it took less than two rounds for me to thoroughly kick his ass; he’s a street fighter not a trained boxer. I left him flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. I told. In the meantime, I went camponotus-hunting.Rain upstream and a full lake meant the turf was soggy. That meant the ants were below in their tunnels. I smiled thinking of the diagram in Them!, where Dr. Medford (Edmund Gwenn) showed the structure of an ants' nest. Not a bad job for an SF-Horror film. Of course, they missed the square-cube law, but everyone did. Who'd worry about a tarantula with eight elephantine legs?So I flipped stones and rolled a dead log, revealing dry spots ... and a few. He had photos of it all, Harry eating her, Monica’s fantastic climax and Harry entering her pussy. Damn Johnny thought, I’ve got jerk off materiel for a year. Monica was a real MILF, hot as hot could be. She was thirty-seven, Byron’s dad’s trophy wife. They’d been married seven years. She was a tall woman, probably 5’8” or 5’9’” with long auburn hair and a body to die for, full breasts that still rode high, a narrow waist above flaring hips. Her best feature was her bottom, when she wore. The mob operated as a massive entity, its shouts uniform and its movements that of a single creature, bent on a single purpose. They pressed against the field barriers around the Federal Offensive Materials Bureau, blue flickers of energy playing across the crowd whenever they pushed just a little too hard. They shouted for freedom, for the ability to see what they wanted to see, hear what they wanted to hear, and feel what they wanted to feel. Some of the braver had earlier attempted to scream.