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“Don’t do anything I haven’t done.”I was scared as the door clicked shut, leaving me alone with Mike. I didn’t know what to say, so I just kissed him.He didn’t kiss back; he just stood there woodenly.However, part of him did respond and I felt his thing swell and grow: that was normal, it happened every time I touched him. The difference was, I knew what it was for and what it felt like inside me.I wanted it inside me and quickly had him pinned against the wall. He was now kissing me back, trying to keep up, but it wasn’t enough.There was a primal urge.Perhaps people would call it make-up sex. Well, it was the first time I’d felt that compulsion. All I knew was that I was desperate to have him inside my body again. That need was powerful and scary but exciting. For the first time, I was sexually out of control.I undid his flies to get at his erection and once I had it in my hand, I dragged Mike so that I could perch on the table. My crotch was at the perfect height and as my skirt. She was too pretty, and by the way she looked at him she’d found him too ugly. With one swift swipe of the hand he’d made them equals. For a while she was as ugly as he was, a valuable lesson for those he employed. Camulos remembered the look of repugnance on the Slattery woman’s face when she was sitting beside him in the car. He reached over and fiddled with a large marble paperweight on his desk. He picked it up, it had a nice heft. He bet it could do a lot of damage. He dropped it back his desk, yes, a lot of damage. Bitterman entered the room and was proffered a chair. The trigger man stood behind. ‘We have a problem, you and I.’ growled an irritated Oscar Camulos. ‘I know. I know, and I’m on it.’ replied the visibly shaking Bitterman. Camulos leaned forward, folding his hands in front of his face just under his chin, ‘You do know do you? Tell me what you know.’ ‘The Slattery woman’s back with her killer boyfriend, and we haven’t been able to track him down.’ Camulos gave.
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