But I can carve a heart, drops of blood and teardrops, swords and knives, simple stuff like that. And I can write words.T G I F.Tits Get Inked First.H...r little boobs were much easier to scrawl on than big mambos are. I always use a state of the art oscillating pen that drives the needles in and out of the skin at 150 times a second. I’d chosen the most indelible, bright red ink. Sadly, I didn’t do a neat job. The 6 letters on each tit were uneven and higgledy-piggledy. But they made the point.. I've been married for 27 years, my sex life at home would be called routine, never anything new, I've tried my best to make things happen with my husband but just seems he's not into it. I've been known to have one night stands while on the road, infrequent and mainly with other men my own age. I woke up one morning and decided I wanted something different, I joined a website where older women can find young men who want Cougars. I had been chatting with this one man, a 21 year old black. Sgt. Dan Pettigrew. You live on Eighteenth Street, you have a lovely wife, she even looks like a librarian. A sexy librarian, if I may say so. You have a sixteen year old son, a whiz on the basketball court. College scouts are already looking at him. Oh, and a daughter in college. Vassar, I’m impressed. Even on a scholarship it must be tight. You know, college campuses have the highest incident of rape in the country. Some girls just disappear. And sports injuries are so common, anything could. And if it was anyone other than one of her compatriots climbing the stairs at this point, the thing was ended before it really got started. There was a soft knocking on the door and Judy stifled a scream. "Who is it?" she called out in a strangled voice."It's me, Mike," her brother replied, his voice muffled, but recognizable through the old door."Mike!" Judy squeaked, flying to the door, ignoring the way her raincoat flew open to expose her naked body. Her fingers were clumsy as she fumbled.