He would be sharing a tarnsaddle with her for a long flight and the smell of blood on either ofthem might distract the tarn. They were vicious carnivo...es, onlypartially domesticated at the best of times and the smell of blood couldtrigger their attack reflexes.He scrubbed the blood from his own armour and weapons, glancing aroundoccasionally to ensure none of the surviving enemies were in a positionto threaten him. By the time he was finished washing himself the girlhad almost levered herself. She was not certain exactly how old she was but figured she was somewhere around eighteen because she already had all those physical changes that young girls get when they pass puberty. At those times she would tell them about her mother Agnes and explained how she had to stay at the factory to work overtime or she would have been with her. Strangely, they never asked her about her father. It was just as well, since she never used the same story twice when queried about her elusive parent.. Joe still had not fulfilled his promise to teach empty-handed combat to Turtle, so now was the time.They skipped a lot of the niceties of the sport of martial arts and zeroed in on what Turtle was really interested in—the killing blows, etc. Turtle was an accomplished rough-and-tumble wrestler, so Joe mostly just needed to show him how to hold his hands or use his feet and to provide a practice dummy for him. They managed to go through the exercises without seriously injuring each other, but. She blushed a little when she saw the dildo in my hand, which she quickly snatched away. "That should be cleaned, she said and tossed it into the bathroom sink with surprising accurracey and landed with a loud rubbery thud. Seated still on the edged of the bed, slightly reclined, I watched her race about collecting clothes. At fifty she still a strikingly beautiful woman with a long slim dancer body which she often wished were a little fuller. Her tits were small and tight and sit firmly on.