“OMG! Very nice arsehole Frank” she said and I could feel her gaze penetrate me, “Bend down” she barked and without question and still holding...my cheeks apart I bent down with my head resting on the back of the chair. “OMG! Nice arse Frank” she said softly and her hot breath was burning me and then totally unexpectedly I jolted as I felt her tongue touch the creased opening to my anus, “Keep still” she said sternly as her tongue flicked around my puckered opening. I felt her hand running up the. If I would have thought that there were three sides to astory I would not have been harsh on him.I know the saying is that there are two sides to a story,but that is nottrue. In a situation like this there would be Gary's story, Stacy'sstory and the truth. People always forget about the truth. The truthgets distorted from the perspective people see it from. Most of the timeone person's story is closer to the truth than the other. Even withthis, people usually need to triangulate the different. But most of our weapons were primitive slug-throwers from that era as well. The woman, or indeed any observer would not have been able to see our faces beyond the mosquito-like countenance of our fully-enclosed respirators. She would have seen that the rest of our bodies were covered by a motley assemblage of padded garments, scuba-diving wetsuits, and thickly wrapped leathers. All with as many pockets-within-pockets as possible; as your basic slug-thrower gun only had a tenth the ammo capacity. " How kind of you to say that. I think. Thank you."Paul interrupted. "Larry, what happened?" Looks like Ski shook down one too many suckers in his little speed trap scam. I thought I had him under control, but he must have run out of gin or something. We have this." Larry held up Leroy's gold plated Beretta. "Not many of these baby's around. Serial number is intact, so we're checking the gun registries now."Callie leaned to the window. "Save your time. I know who owns that gun. He a pimp named.