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O'Donnell briefly considered grabbing the M-16 sitting in the backseat, but decided it would be too unwieldy to shoot the fully automatic assault rifle and drive at the same time.With one hand on the wheel, he instead reached into his jacket and plucked his Glock 17 from its shoulder holster. O'Donnell liked the gun. He and the Glock were like brothers. With no safety, and a rock solid performance record, it was no frills. Always ready to go.The Porsche's worn, but solid tires screeched in protest as they were expertly pushed to their limit through the tight curve. The rear end nearly slid out of control before Liv counteracted the slide, using a skilled combination of braking and counter steering. She didn't dare look at the speedometer. She concentrated on not slamming through the guardrail and into the canyon below. Diverting her attention, even for a moment, would spell certain disaster.The mirror on the driver's side slammed against the aluminum guardrail. It was violently. They talked about his girl friends for hours. Toward the end of the night J told him we would go out and find him a date one way or the other. He said that sounded wondwerful. I saw her slide her hand up his inseam a couple times and how big his eyes would get, she smiled at me more than once with the gotcha look! This is new! What does she think will happen?What did I think would happen?Holy shit!Candaulism? Hot-wife? I guess we are getting closer Please let me know what you think of us.I loved this night and sort of liked it at the same time! True as I can tell it!We were sitting around our Cleveland hotel. I had put on the loose shorts and an old t shirt, the blinds turned mostly open. She also had her bra off, light white T-shirt on and night shorts(no panties). I had started to rub her back under her shirt and rubbing her tits from behind. I was again working her shirt up with the intention of showing her to anyone outside our hotel room.I had worked it up to her neck in back.
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That made me so sad that I nearly cried with you. I hope you realize now how guilty I felt, and how it broke my heart. Here I was again in my dream, making you cry. In my dream, I told you I needed to hold you, and you said you wanted that, but that we couldn't do it until the coffee was gone. You were crying, and I was desperate. I had to do something. I had to fix it. So I did the only thing I could think of to do. I grabbed both our cups and dumped them on the ground.We looked at each other, and I saw that your tears had stopped. In fact, it looked like you had never been crying at all. You were smiling at me just as broadly as you do in your picture. You asked me if we could be together now, and I said we should try. Then, at the same time, in the slow motion we sometimes have in dreams, we reached out our hands toward each other. For an instant, the tips of our fingers touched. That's when I woke up. I don't usually remember my dreams in such detail, but this one.

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