Starting with the front of the cab, the only difference he could see was the metal edging around the armoured windows. This would not be too major to ...eplicate. Sourcing some aluminium trim and gluing it in place would not look amiss to the untrained eye.He could do the same effect around the side windows on the cab. With this on and the windows wound up, it would look as though they were fixed in place and didn't open, just like the armoured truck.Once he had removed the 815 number badges, the. Slowly, she opened up again, and seemed to steel herself. He slapped again, and she gave a howl of pain, but kept her legs open. He delivered a total of six slaps, then gently stroked her pussy while her sobs subsided. Eventually, she pulled herself together and stood up. Her face was wet and her mascara smudged. "Your turn," she said to me, with a wicked little smile. "I don't think I can take that," I confessed. "Oh, but you must!" she exclaimed, "If you don't, I can't have you, and I want. .. He's weird." Weird?" Mark rolled his eyes."Yeah, it's okay." He shrugged and looked at Mark. "But not around school, right?" Only if I whisper it in your ear." Mark laughed and Chris was blushing again."Shoot." I looked at the radio and it was already past nine thirty cause we'd gotten out of the house late and it was kind of a ways to the old bridge."We better get going," Mark agreed, since he was such a good boyfriend."Least I can make out on the way home now." I laughed, teasing Mark as. She can’t sort that out. Two ideas are still raging in her mind.“You want me in charge?” I say forcefully.She nodds.“Then listen to me.”She nodds.“You are not a slut.”Again, the confusion is plain on her face. I see her eyebrows furrow and nose scrunch as she tries to sort it out.“Trust me. Am I in charge?”“Yes.”“Do I think you’re a slut?”“No.”“Then are you a slut?”“No,” she says.“That’s right,” I coo. I stroke her hair, like a cat. She seems to like it and relaxes. “You’re not a slut, June.” I.