‘I suppose you wish for me to tell you some tired cliché about how I won’t bite.’ he says. This time the full force of his British accent hits ...e, and I smile more naturally. ‘Well,’ I laugh, ‘it’s not as if you will, is it?’ He stares at me for a long moment, those dark blue eyes unfathomable. ‘Yes.’ he says finally. I blink, since it’s an unusual answer, but I doubt he means what I think he means. At least, I hope he doesn’t. I think I hope he doesn’t. God, I’m confused. He strokes my throat. And after the game he would get with his girlfriend, the hottest girl in school, the head cheerleader Tiffany Stefowsky. Tiffany was the most popular, and most beautiful girl in school. She was 5'9 and built like the quintessential brick shit-house. With blue eyes, long cascading blond hair, an angular face that looked chiseled from marble, a sleek athletic body, and two breasts the size of soccer balls, she made men sport boners where ever she went. (She even had this effect at a few family. She took a couple of steps in, halting and staring at them. She heard her Mom whisper something to her Dad, and he began to stroke his cock again. She could hardly take her eyes off the luxurious sight of that sensual rhythm. Her mouth started to water, and she licked her lips. Her mother walked toward her, her tits swaying with the motion. Come on in. Sit down here on the bed. We were just talking about what to get Cindy for her birthday, she said. Her Dad continued jacking himself off, a thin. And she seemed to liked him. He idly thought about just taking her one night and striking out on his own, maybe on a ninety degree tangent from the group’s path. He knew they couldn’t afford to waste time hunting him down. If he could just take one of the rifles ... he’d do it. If he could lift a weapon from the group’s stash, he’d do it, he’d go.He was selected for guard duty one night and walked around the floating platform, carrying one of the group’s four rail rifles. He carefully got his.
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