Like so much of the furniture in Anthony’s parent’s house, it was a heavy, traditional piece. Made of brown leather, now slightly cracking in plac...s from use, with brass studs around the edges. It had big, round, firm arms. Maria faced the couch, and looked to Bianca for what she expected her to do next. “Bend over the arm of the couch and place your forearms and hands flat on the seat,” instructed Bianca. “Keep your feet flat on the floor.” Maria did as she was told. Again, she felt her. ”Poncho looked through the scope. Poncho asked. “How much?”“I’ll give you a loan. About $20 a rifle and a penny per round for ammunition.” John suggested.“Yes, when can we get them?” Poncho asked.“Today soon enough?” John laughed then grabbed his phone. After looking up a number, he called it, “Roger, this is John Taylor, we will take them. All ten thousand with all your ammunition and extras. I will send you four ten-pound bricks of gold. Roger, go stand in front of the shipment. Call. That night I can't sleep. I'm thinking about Zaid and how much I hurt him. Why was I so quick to turn him down? He really is a wonderful guy. Handsome too- about six feet, with tan skin, and dark eyes with lashes any girl would kill for. He has such a kind face. I can't believe I could hurt someone with such a kind face, but I did. I start replaying our conversation over and over in my mind. Then I start to think of how differently it could have gone. Without even realizing it, I'm touching. He kissed me gently on the lips and again on my forehead as he tucked me into bed. "Boa noite um pouco". The next morning I awoke and showered then slid on a simple sun dress and made my way to the kitchen where I heard many men's voices. We had company, shit. I was hoping to get a good start to a day of fucking my dad. I was aching for him and not just my well-used vagina, I yearned for his touch, his kiss, his smile, his smell or even just his look. I came around the corner to find my uncle.