But I could trace out a thin hairline consisting of tiny golden hairs running from her navel to the deep hidden valley that lie beneath.Her tummy was ... perfect blend of flesh and muscle. There was no sagging, but it was smooth enough with the right curves to ride and flip a roller blade. She was truly the Country queen(Naattu Kattai) they say in Tamil. It was the village routine and lifestyle that had sculpted her into the statue she was today. Further down I could look at the little visible. Costain?" she said into the waiting room. When I waved my free hand at her she gave me a smile. "Right this way, sir," she said, to the consternation of my fellow (and predecessor) waitees. I got up and followed her, still grasping the Liberator in my pocket.We passed through another office and then into a second, smaller one. The only woman there, sitting at a desk facing the entrance I'd just come through, waved at the door behind her. "Go right on in, Mr. Costain," she said. My escort had. More

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