He knew either a bow or a gun was aimed at his back, just from the fact that Girl had raised her arms.He slowly stood in a half-crouch, and turned, looking at the man. You goddam bastard, he breathed to himself, staring at the man. You son of a bitch.The man looked genuinely crazy. He had a beard, a wild unkempt beard. Shit. More crazy folks. The hills were full of them, lately. The man’s hair, what of it he had, stuck out in every direction. His clothes were ragged, one leg torn completely off the jeans. He was grinning widely and somewhat insanely, and his teeth looked like a row of Corn-nuts. He was wearing an ancient, rotted pair of Nikes. Before-the-Fall Nikes. Jeezus. Clipper hadn’t seen Nikes in fifteen years.Clipper saw all that in an instant. But that was not what really scared him. What really scared him was the Russian-made assault rifle in the man’s hands. An AK47. Sweet jeezus, he thought, an AK. He’d actually owned on of those, back somewhere in the mists of time. Where. “Yes, I put my clothes back on and met him in the kitchen,” Christy said, “I hugged him and thanked him and he kissed my cheek.”“Wow.”“He asked me if the massage was okay? I told him it felt amazing,” Christy whispered, “He asked me if I felt any better and I told him that I felt, AMAZING!”I couldn’t hold it in any longer and I filled her pussy with my juice; she climaxed at the same time that I did.We snuggled for a few minutes before I went to the bathroom and on my way back to bed, I noticed a sexy white bra and thong on her dressing table, I picked them us and looked at my wife.“I’m wearing those tomorrow,” Christy smiled, “You never know, I may get another massage.”“You’re hoping so aren’t you, babe?” I joked.“You bet I am!” Christy shouted.The next morning before I went to work, I suggested that Christy invite James to dinner.“Let’s go out to eat and ask James to join us, babe,” I smiled.Christy called James and he accepted our invitation before I left for work. I called Christy.
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