We met at least thrice a week for one year and all that we did was to talk and share notes on gender identification issues over coffee, tea, lunch and...dinner. We spent days and nights talking about it over phone, at office or even at my home. She was passionate about her work and our bonding was at an intellectual level.She of course knew that I was a shemale and literally she became my counselor, my confidante, my friend, my pal. During one of the sleep overs at my place, discussing her work,. Our eyes met and he smiled brightly, revealing his perfect white teeth and said, “What do you want big man?” I looked at him, dizzy with lust and said, “I want you. I want to hear you moan.” He kicked off his shoes and his pants fell off revealing his white y fronts, filled with his big fat Arab cock. He sat down in the chair and looked at me as if I were his slave and said, “You will do whatever I tell you.” I answered, “Whatever you tell me.... yes, without any problem.” “Good,” was. "Did I scare you?" she asked playfully.She really had kind of startled me. "Yea, you really got me." I looked down at my watch. It was only a little after one o'clock. Too early to go out for dinner, and I didn't have a clue what we could do for a few hours. I yawned and stretched. "Shopping really wears me out." I said, faking being tired."Good," Sally said. "Lets go back to the cabin so we can try on our stuff before we go out to dinner. You can take a nap daddy." She seemed to have. She suspected he wore some sort of body armour, and she aimed both knives at the inside of his thighs where the big leg arteries lay. The excellent steel of the Nipom-made combat knives tore through cloth, skin and muscles, and the man screamed in agony. Pilar relaxed her muscles and let herself collapse to the ground, surprising the assassin. She felt a burning sensation at her cheek where the knife had cut her skin open as she dropped, but she rolled to the side and flipped back to her feet,.
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We were on our second cup of coffee when an armored car showed up. I kept my hand on the butt of the .22 mag, until I compared the driver to his photo
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