He stood there as if unsure whether to fight or run for cover. Like a deer in the headlights, armed with its own shotgun but unable to bring it to bea....Monique squeezed off three shots. One went wide, the other was closer but she'd overcompensated. The third hit the man squarely in the side, low and in the gut. He spun. Without combat training or experience, he hadn't secured his gun. As he tumbled the rifle fell, bouncing off the asphalt roadway. So much for the fancy scope, Monique thought as. There’s a guy comes most weeks with his wife. If they are in, I close at ten-thirty, lock the door and no-one leaves until the end.” “The end of what?” “What do you think? If she’s in the mood, everyone gets a blow job. The ones she fancies get more. Everyone can watch, wank, whatever.” “But just one woman?” “Would be good to have more. Why don’t you bring yours? There’d be plenty for her.” I reported back to Mel and we crossed another idea off the list.. More

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