.”“It’s a nice, Italian bubbly. It should go well with dinner. We should keep it cold.”“I’ll put it in the fridge.” He followed her into...her kitchen.“Well, this really does look like a seventies kitchen,” he remarked, “right down to the wallpaper.”“The whole house stinks of the seventies,” she replied. “There’s shag carpeting in the living room. I finally had new carpeting put into the bedroom because I couldn’t stand it any more.”“It’s not a bad layout,” he said.“It serves my needs.”“Until you. “Quantify ‘some guys’ for me.” I said.After several long moments she cleared her throat and said, “Three.” She told me their names, prefacing one of them with “a guy named.” I knew the other two. Well.I turned away from her and looked at the ceiling too. My heart was beating so hard it almost hurt.After several more silent moments she turned on her side, reached and placed her hand on my chest. “You okay?”I sat up. Exhaled slowly. “I will be.”“I’m sorry.”“No, you’re not … that’s okay. "Sure," I replied.She looked at the pistol hanging on a nail. "Aren't you going to take your gun?" she asked."Let me explain something about pistols. First of all, I was a cop for thirty years, twenty of those I was a detective. A detective only needs a pistol, if he makes a serious mistake in judgment. If he does that, the pistol won't help much." No matter," she said. "I never leave home without mine."There was a smile on her face. I didn't know for sure whether she were joking or not. When I. So I started fisting my cock for all that I was worth, jacking with one hand while pulling at my nut sack with the other, I was close now. I switched from the movie screen to Malaika, and still she looked at me, emotionless.I remembered reading stories not unlike the one I’m telling now, but the woman always seemed to be openly enjoying the vision of a man full of lust and pleasuring himself, but I got nothing from this woman. Finally I thought to myself, she was either going to stop staring or.