I knew from long experience that would change as soon as my foot crossed the threshold. I tend to have that effect on people. I’m six feet six inches tall and I weigh an even 250 pounds—all of it broad shouldered muscle. My Body Mass Index at my last physical was less than four percent. My light brown hair is styled exactly the way it’s been for the past fifteen years—ever since I first joined the Navy. Sure enough, no sooner had I taken my first step into the bar than the noise died. When I turned left and stepped up to the bar the people there couldn’t back away fast enough. I took a stool in the middle of the empty space and sat down, waiting for the bartender to approach. “I’m not looking lick for any trouble.” “Good…neither am I. Give me a ginger ale.” He reached under the bar for a glass and some ice. Twenty seconds later he slid the glass in my direction. I pulled a fiver from my pocket and dropped it on the bar. He ignored it and walked away to draw a few beers and pour some wine. It looked to me that this was a pretty cheap crowd. Checking up and down the bar all I could see were longnecks and drafts. I reached into the lower left pocket of my cargo pants. Like almost everything else I was wearing they were a true deep navy blue. My heavy shoes were black as was my wide belt. My belt said as much about me as the bold white lettering across my chest. Just below the American flag over my heart were the letters that were my life—U. S. MARSHAL. On my Lesbian right hip was my nickel plated .44 Magnum Colt Python, just behind two speed loaders in addition to the twenty-four rounds on the belt. On my left hip was my ASP Talon baton—every bit as deadly a weapon in my hands as the revolver. A pouch at the back of my right hip held my stainless steel handcuffs and its partner on the opposite japanese side held my radio—my babe link to my backup team. I placed the photo flat on the bar as the bartender returned to me. “I’ll have another,” I said in a loud voice, continuing soto voce so I wouldn’t be overheard. “Don’t pick it up and don’t make a production of looking at it. I’ve been told that he comes here a lot. Is he here tonight? If he is and he escapes because you’ve given me away I’ll see to it that you’re arrested for obstruction of justice.” He gulped a few times but did as he was told, nodding slightly in response. I continued almost at a whisper. “If my nose is pointing to twelve o’clock, my right ear to three, the back of my head to six, and my left ear to nine, tell me where he is. Again, don’t point or do anything obvious and we’ll be fine.” He pretended to wipe the bar as he whispered, “About 4:30 with his back to you.” I picked up the reflection in the mirror then asked, “Red shirt with black and white stripes, looking away from me?” He nodded again. Now, in my normal tone of voice I asked, “Where’s the men’s room?” He must have been a quick study because he caught on immediately. “Take the hallway to your right…last asian door on your right.” I turned, not to my right, but to my left so the people at his table wouldn’t see me loosen the leather strap from my holster, tucking it up and under the top edge where it wouldn’t interfere with my draw. I thumbed the safety off then I spun around and slowly walked toward the hallway. I was only a few feet from him when I pivoted, my left foot crossing in front of my right. A fraction of a second later my big left hand was on his neck, pushing his head onto the table. “Michael Clifford, you are under arrest for kidnapping, rape, sodomy, murder, interstate flight to avoid prosecution, and violations of the Mann Act. Place your hands flat on the table. “My thesis was to be about sexual ethics during the empire, but I haven’t babe worked on it in months” she said. I couldn’t very well leave the nipple clamps on all night, but I sure as hell was going to leave her nailed to the table. “Of course, I’m keeping an eye on thing from our side of the aisle,” Jennifer tells me before she leans over and kisses me. I felt him grab my curls in one fist and my Lesbian ass in his other hand, and push his hard, wet, dick inside my asshole. Somehow, she'd defeated her father's iron proxy, shutting down that monstrosity of metal. I was bright and vibrant. “You are very good, very,” I moan as she teases the tips of my nipples with her fingers as she licks my cunt. It's distracting me from the beauties at the strip club.” this is a... Note: Thanks to WRC 264 for beta reading this. Without any formality, he hugged and asian kissed Ponni. Her strength left her and her head lolled backwards, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. This is about cocks, not tits." She could still feel them pushing into her palms, that, and the warmth that Willy's body had radiated. I turned to Sara “sweetie, this is going to hurt a little at first. He jotted down the information. After Fleur sat back down in the tub, Harry had enough and set off back to his room. The moment she was in place, his finger was back on her lips, japanese stifling any further lick protests she might have made. We are best friends! Then one day she asked ”Paddu!