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Words would be said, the sweet young thing (or the not so sweet, not so young woman) would run from the room and I'd go a week with Leslie not talking to me. She knew how I got when I drank and she also knew that I never chased after other women, but that didn't make it any easier on me.About six weeks ago Leslie finally had enough. She came into a room where I was sitting in a chair, barely coherent, while two women were looking at and stroking my cock. Leslie didn't even come into the room, she just turned on her heels and walked away. The two women looked at each other, giggled, and then went back to taking turns sucking my cock until I came. Then they took turns licking the cum off my dick, tucked it away and left me there to fall asleep.The next day as I was suffering through a hangover and sitting at the kitchen table sipping black coffee Leslie sat down across from me and handed me a piece of paper."What's this?" That hubby dear, is your punishment. I am sick and tired of. The snow was red with their blood. About thirty men and ten women were moving among the corpses. Cindy climbed a tree and stared at the carnage, trying to make sense of it.It appeared two different groups had fought a battle, one group wearing furs and the other wearing clothes that Cindy thought looked like woven grasses. All of the people currently walking around were wearing woven clothes. The fatalities in woven clothes looked like they had been hacked to pieces. A number of them still were impaled with spears. Most of the fatalities though were wearing furs, and Cindy thought just about all of them looked like they had died from gunshot wounds."Could two pistols do all this?! I doubt it. Do other people have guns around here?" Cindy pondered as she stared at the people walking around. "None of these do... Nuts! Are they singing?! How could they sing in a scene like this?!" Cindy watched them quietly as the morning progressed, slowly understanding. "Wow... A singing language....
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