Chrissie wrapped herself back up. "Come home with me. Tom won't hurt you. Hot bath, clean clothes, turkey dinner." The girl stared, wide-eyed. "What's...your name? I'm Chrissie." Silence. "I tell you, I've been where you are. Please?"Very long pause, as Chrissie held the girl's gaze. "Geraldine," the girl finally whispered."Well, Geraldine, will you come home with me? Warm house, bath, clean clothes, food?" Yes, please."There was blood on the duvets. Quite a lot of it. 'Have to do something about. ” Mr Bergman had put a finger up her rear. It made her frown, because she had not expected this from him. “Edouard Manet..” he said, while his finger slowly slid in and out of her ass. She heard herself emit a thin sound. She could not have been in his apartment for more that fire minutes, possibly less than that. The finger slid out of her. “Claude Monet…two fundamentally different things, bitch..” Two other fingers slipped into her pussy. She sucked air in through her teeth. The whole. He noticed a plain shirt in the back of the dresser. He chose that instead."You are dining with the king," said Lancelot.Jacob jumped at the sound of the knight's voice. How did he sneak in so quietly with those boots?"So the other shirt?"The knight nodded.Jacob quick changed. He went to his duffel bag, palmed his lighter, and followed Lancelot downstairs.Jacob was goggled eyed. The dining hall was incredible. The walls were covered in gold and silver. From the ceiling hung the finest linens. "Don't shoot me, Mister. I'll do whatever you say." OK, just ya drop yer iron," he said.I used my left hand, figuring that would put them more at ease, and reached for the revolver on my right side. I drew it very slowly so as not to cause anyone to panic. When I had the gun in my hand, I pulled the same stunt I had used against the road agents a couple of weeks ago. I kicked my right foot out of the stirrup and dismounted so fast that I left the other side wondering what I was up to.I started.
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