We loved each other. We had our whole lives ahead of us. We were still young, and we felt like things would never change. Fuck, what had happened? Was...it my fault? Did I do this to her? When we got home, our hands were pink with the cold. Our faces were ice. We removed our clothes and embraced under a warm blanket. Her nipples were hard with the cold and with arousal. I stroked her thighs, and my fingers traveled closer and closer to her soft mound of pubic hair. When I reached it, she giggled. Even if I did get my arms free, Jones would shoot me before I could free my legs. At this range he could hardly miss. I regretted not having my bullet-resistant suit. Skin was useful as a disguise, but it left a lot to be desired when it came to protection.As the probing of the gun became more insistent and I became more aroused, my will to resist the very seductive fantasy crumbled until I was starting to let little sounds slip out. Then I felt my traitorous labia fold back like the gates of a. More

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