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'I studied her body, especially her full breasts. I could see her nipples prodding against the thin cotton of her blouse, and again my cock stirred involuntarily. She must have seen me staring, and she eased the blouse down another couple of inches, baring more of her breasts and the deep valley between them.I looked up, and our eyes met, and I let my fingers stroke hers lightly.'I know what you mean about being frustrated. I've just broken up with my girlfriend.'Her eyes widened in surprise. 'Why? What was wrong?'I shrugged. 'Oh, I don't know. She was so — immature, I suppose. Very giggly, self-conscious, almost prudish. I prefer older women, more experienced, who know what they're doing, and what they want.'She swung her legs sideways from under the table, and crossed them. I glanced down, and dropped my hand to her thigh — she stared at me for a moment, and tugged her skirt up several inches, so that my hand rested on her bare leg.'And I prefer younger men — who want to do things. A feminine voice called out, "Loose the hardware or die!" No problem," I replied as I took off my parka and laid my guns down on it. John did the same and then stood up holding the Doberman in his arms."Look we need Doc to look at Chance. He's been shot," John said as he turned and stared at the girl I was looking at.She was standing beside the front of an old World War Two Army Jeep parked in the front of the garage. She was leaning over the hood, the SPAWS shotgun clutched in her small hands."Regina, put that gun away," came a male voice as a door opened."Grandpa, I don't know them, so..." Well, I do know John Tyron, not sure on the other guy, but I recognize Marsha Hawks' Chance in his arms. Come on into the emergency clinic," the voice said and I heard a door open."Follow me," Regina said as she turned around and walked out of sight.I followed John and we went through a door into a kitchen. I didn't get the chance to look around, but my nose detected chili being cooked over on the.
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