About then, I heard two different guns open fire, both firing controlled bursts. I heard one of them yell and gurgle and the other one just started yelling and begging us to stop firing. I jumped down and covered the live one. He was hit in the leg and bleeding badly. I frisked him and found a CZ pistol and a spring blade knife, in addition to the Uzi he had emptied with his uncontrolled firing. I found the other one, three shots to the torso. He was dead. The two I shot were both dead, shot. Bob lifted the headset off for Fiona’s ear and removed the mouthpiece and asked, ‘Any last words?’ Fiona replied, ‘On a score of 1 to 10 Bob: for getting me into bed-one. For dinner, Angus McFarland and the Lotus Flower: ten. For originality after dinner, you get a three. For decisive action in battle Bob, zero. Bob asked, ‘How did you know about Angus?’ Fiona said ‘It is etched on the glasses, Bob.’ ‘You will change your scores shortly, my dear,’ ‘You are just like most men, Bob, ‘All talk no. Jab mera rishte dar ke waha pe shadi start hua toh hum sab subha subha jate the aur raat ko wapas aate the ekdin mummy papa bhaiya pehle chale gaya kyuki unka thoda kaam tha toh main aur meri uncle ki beti ghar pe aakele the mera uncle ki beti ka figure bohot hi zyada acchi thi aur unki boobs toh bohot bari thi toh main roz raatko unke baare main soch ke hilata tha toh jab papa mummy bhaiya chale gaye meri uncle ki beti ne bola ki main nahake aati hu tab tak tum apna nasta khalo bolke woh. I held the bulbous purple head of my throbbing and leaking cock against her hole, feeling her pressing as hard as possible against it as she attempted to get it inside her. I looked directly at her eyes and watched them roll into her head as I shoved seven inches of hard, blood and passion engorged cock into the wet depths of her cunt. I kept still for a moment, savouring the feeling of your wetness wrapped me, a wetness I never imagined to enjoy. With long slow strokes my assault of her.
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