“Nice chest,” you said, brushing my chest hairs with your soft, gentle hands.“Now, pants,” I said.You struggled with my belt so I helped you, ...hen you unbuttoned my jeans and pulled down the zipper. I stood up and let them fall to the floor. Now we were equal. I was standing there in my blue underwear, and you were in your green panties.You coughed softly. “Oh my,” you muttered. “Can I touch you?”“Yes, Marlene, you can touch me, you can do anything you want,” I said.You reached out, your. I'm not worried about you on this one. Do what you have to do."By 'this one', she meant as opposed to the first time I had been forced to kill to protect an innocent. She had wept for what it cost me to kill the two dirty Las Vegas cops that were hunting for Phoebe, the thirteen-year-old runaway who was the key that finally unlocked the pedophile slave ring I was in Vegas to stop. I had tried everything I could think of to find a way out of killing them; Jamie calling Sandra Atkins had been my. More

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