I prepared the pancakes on Dawn's plate, spread some butter, and then poured blueberry sauce over the top. Then I sat back to watch her reaction.I was...'t disappointed. Dawn took a bite, closed her eyes, and then looked up at me. "Who are you?" she exclaimed. "How in the world did you make these pancakes? They are the best I have ever tasted. What are you, some secret TV chef?" She said the sauce was also incredible. She commented that she could not believe the incredible flavor.I knew that they. She knew she still did. But now she was feeling a new desire. A desire for sex. The kind of sex you can’t have with a spouse. The kind you can’t have with someone you ‘know’. She had loved how messy she had become and how secretly slutty she had felt last night. She realized this new aspect would need to be explored and quenched before she could pursue the white picket fence. She also knew she wouldn’t be able to satisfy it with simple masturbation. She would need contact. Who and where she. He thought her eyes were blue, but couldn’t be sure yet given that she had not looked him squarely in the face yet. Her nervousness had given her an angelic, almost innocent facial expression that he felt bode well for the evening. Externally, she had dressed perfectly for what he wanted – the slightly prudish secretary who always hints at her sexuality – just like the secretaries in the pool at his former employer. Skirts that finished just above the knee showing enough shapely leg to feed his. His gang follows him. When the gang moves clear of the soldiers Gerry says, “Drop the knives and surrender, or die!” The gang leader snarls again and leaps forward. Gerry yells, “Contact.” The drunk soldiers hit the ground while Gerry thrusts his sword into the chest of the charging gang leader and his patrol fires on the gang to drop them all in their tracks. Standing over the dying gang leader Gerry reaches down to clean his knife and sword on the man’s coat, “You had your chance and you.
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