What a lovely woman, I was thinking, wondering what was going on with her. We went through the upstairs rooms, turning lights on and off. ‘Is Mrs. P...watching this from across the street? What must she be thinking?’ Heading back down the stairs I started to laugh, thinking of the absurdity of what we were doing. Forgetting that Brenda was behind me I laughed out loud. “What’s so funny?” I heard he say. Stunned, I turned to see her looking up at me. “Ah….it was…..ah…it was nothing,” I stammered.. I can guess, but let me tell you I would never hurt a woman. In fact, I beat the crap out of my former stepdad when I found out he was abusing my mom and sister. I almost lost my scholarship over it, and I had a lot of ‘splaining to do during my interviews with the FBI about it. They were concerned about my emotional and mental fitness to be an agent. But it is one of the reasons I am going into law enforcement. I don’t do well with innocent people getting hurt.”“You’re going to be an FBI. ?" "no... yesssss...please" For an answer I slobbered all over his fingers for a moment or two before he pulled them out. He pressed them back between my cheeks and the gentle scissoring movement was imediately replaced by hard, rough thrusting. I was opening for him, I could feel the resistence lessening. He could too, "You're almost ready..." I looked over my shoulder. "I'm ready now... really ready..." "Not quite..." I saw him looking around the room. His eyes locked onto something and. ’ As Kim listened, she was aware of the man now openly appraising her with a calm, confident, maybe even thoughtful gaze. Neither predatory nor judgmental – a rarity in her experience. These people must be great at hiding their judgments, she thought. Good thing, or she’d have bolted. Her courage was a thin veneer, barely covering her discomfort and fear. She nodded at the hostess and started to turn toward the entrance to the bar. ‘We have a coatroom, if you’d like. We keep the club pretty.