.Now on the afore-mentioned evening, June 6th — it was Friday — I came home from doing the laundry and watched a little TV, and about eleven I wen... to bed. I had a slight headache and took a couple of Tylenol, thinking it would be better by morning. Everything was fine when I drifted into slumber.The next morning I was groggy and unable to think clearly, and my face felt funny. I sported a handlebar mustache in those days, as part of my construction worker image. Evidence on the pillow and in. As always the turn of the tide was pretty unproductive. I had brought a few home brews and some sandwiches with me so we sat and enjoyed the peace. After we had eaten Sister Teresa made the comment."You're not of the faith Jim." A statement not a question."No Sister, I was brought up as a Catholic but I found as I became more aware of things, that religion in any form didn't sit too well with me." Do you want to talk about it, I don't want to seem like I'm pushing the Bible bit Jim, but I'm. When she began to come to I was behind her with a length of soft nylon rope. I slipped it around her neck in a clove hitch and pulled it tight, and began strangling the young thing.I had cut her t-shirt and bra up the middle to see her tits as I choked her and I wasn't disappointed.She was young but had a great set of boobs with well-defined nipples, and swayed and jiggled as she struggled.With her legs lashed together she bucked and strained against the ropes to no avail.Her friend the blonde. Great. We don't get to do a lot of these." You don't?" asked Marigold."No," said the masseuse. "You'll love it, though. It's well worth what you spent." Actually," said Marigold. "It was a gift." Ah," said the masseuse. She smiled broadly, pearly white teeth in sharp contrast to her black skin. "Your boyfriend?" I, uh..." said Marigold. "I'm not sure exactly what he is--not my boyfriend exactly." Well," said the masseuse. "You may not know what he is, but he certainly seems to think he knows. I.