Such a smooth, velvety soft sheath for my sword.” He drew back. “Yes,” I purred. “Draw back to the sword tip.” And he did. Only the very tip...of the cock head, which not long before had contained my tongue inside of it. “I parry,” he grinned. “And now….THRUST, Cyrano!” I moaned. “Wound me deep with thy hard sword.” In one swift descent, my Cyrano’s 8-inch sword plunged and plunged and plunged, deep into my sheath. “Thou stabbeth me deeply, not to my death, but bringing me to life, bringing me. ..," I called after him and turned to greet my handlers. Funny, from captors, to guardians, to handlers, and anyway you put it the result was all the same - I was screwed. So much for the Italian Mafia, Bennito was Colombian and that could only mean one thing - drugs.Oh, Brad, what did you get me into? That Brad's company was supplying protection was a little comforting, maybe there was hope yet that I wouldn't end up in some ditch along a lonely stretch of Nevada desert highway. I prayed. More

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