When she was kneeling it was right in front of her eyes. She kissed it softly and instinctively and when she heard the bandit give a low grunt she kne... she was doing it right. Her hands kept stroking up and down, up and down. She could feel the blood rushing through the veins on his shaft and pulsating against her touch. She kissed his manhood more often now. It tasted weird and fleashy and had its own sweet smell. She loosened the grip and stuck out her small tongue to lick along the bulgy. The events described here are imaginary, the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons. ********* At dawn, in a couple of hours from now, I have to fight a duel. Major Simon has chosen pistols and he’s a deadly shot. I will die. He insulted my wife by calling her a whore. I challenged him to a duel. It would be easier and quicker to blow my own brains out. It doesn’t matter that my wife behaves like a whore. She does. But telling. The Interstate was not particularly busy so I made good time and it was just approaching 10:00 when I pulled into the drivrway. The house was dark except for a light in the kitchen at the back of the house. I took my bag from the car and left it near the front door while I went looking for my wife. I couldn't find her in the house and then I remembered she had mentioned something about going for dinner over at Tom and Rita's.I didn't take the time to unpack or change and made my way through the. Weekends he would be parked right in front of the little black and white TV with its rooftop antenna. They lived up on a high hill in the Ozarks and he could pick up Mountain Home’s three channels real good. He always invited a guy or two to watch with him. They might be kin, from work, or someone his wife Myrtle had recommended. Having other fans to cheer with made it so much better. Of course he’d have them bring the beer and Myrtle would have some snacks ready to serve. Them exciting.
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