The contrast to his dark hair wasstriking, as he puckered his lips to himself in the mirror to his ownsatisfaction. He combed his shoulder length hair...to the side, letting itflow just to the edge of his right eye. He looked beautiful.Michael's bra was sufficiently filled to its C cup capacity, and hecarefully slipped the sleeveless pink cardigan over the curves of hisbreast and pulled down over his flat stomach. He then pulled up theshort denim skirt over his smooth legs and fastened the button. Then he'd asked him to show good faith by interceding on behalf of a zoning application in Fuenlabrada. It wasn't even important, for God's sake, a change of use authorisation or some such nonsense. Worse, he'd ordered him, ordered, no less, to go to that fool Roberto's party, at that club. He shuddered at the thought of the women pawing at him, their fat udders heaving as they laughed slyly, winking at each other as they doubted his potency. He'd taken to keeping his shotgun by his bed, in. More

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