Anat: I'm just going to tease you and leave you unsatisfied. Greedy, wench.

Dear Weetabix's uterus:
Should you not be satisfied with your current employment, the abdomen department of Badsnake LTD would be happy to consider you as a potential new member of the happy Badsnake Internal Bits team. You are much more entertaining than the uterus holding the position currently, and we certainly admire your tough bargaining skills. We think you would be an asset to the reproductive system.

Sincerely,

Bad's Brain
Personnel Mgr.
Badsnake LTD

We did a totally hot Masta Chief and Lt. scene last night, and I think it was my best lie-in-wait sneak attack to date. Usually when we do the MC and LT, I'll let myself into the girls' house and wait somewhere for Sara to get home from work and we'll pretend that he's covertly broken into her apartment. He'll chide her about her sorry-ass alarm system and locks. After her initial fight response to the sneak attack, she'll be blas�, like, "So nice of you to drop in, Chief. What can I do for you?" as he's got her face down on the floor in a full-nelson or whatever, because he's done this so often she's sort of used to it now.

But last night was great. I watched a PBS special on SEALS at 2100, and then around 2310, I went over to Sara's to scope out my hiding place. I took care of the boys first. I'd been thinking about finding a shadowy spot outside this time, so I scoped out the sit and figured hiding between the garbage cans would be pretty good. I'd see her start to pull in the drive, duck down, when I heard her car door close, I'd stealthily creep up behind her as she walked to the front door and then I'd make my move. But I tried the stealthy creeping thing, and my feet just made too much noise whether I was on the grass or the concrete. And I was wearing soft-soled shoes, not even my combat boots. Concrete: crch crch crch. Grass: sksss sksss sksss. Suzanne Brockmann makes it sound easy.

How do SEALS deal with tricky situations like this? They revise and improvise an even better plan. Hide in plain sight.

There's a little nook between a porch post and a corner of the house on their front porch. It's right next to the front steps up to the porch. There's a big bush right behind it. I decided to hide there. I'm wearing all black. I was wishing I'd brought my hat, too, because I was afraid my pale face might stick out too much. And I waited and practiced my hiding position and went over some scene plot points. I'd locked the house back up, and the boys were all settled down.

Finally the LT. got home. I'm completely hidden from the driveway by the bush, but the minute she walks up those steps, I'm going to be so close I could lean over and kiss her. I'm dead still. I bow my head down so that my dark hair is facing the porch instead of my pale face. She comes up the steps and walks right by me.

It's true. She's in a cop uniform. She's undercover, just as I'd heard, investigating some suspicious mismatches between dope dealer deaths and evidence, and the suspect is a former SEAL, and a good friend of my Gunny. This fact-finding mission is a personal favor on my part. That and a good excuse to jump LT.

One of the neighborhood cats is on the porch and LT stops to shake out some kibble and talk to it. She turns around to face me, and I think she's looking right at me. Shit!

But she doesn't say anything. She just goes to unlock the door. That's when she notices my backpack where I've got my ropes and stuff stored. I was sure she wouldn't notice that. There had been a dark colored vase there, and I'd replaced it with the similarly sized pack so I could grab it on the way in with no fuss.

I was sure she'd totally scoped me and was just playing it out. She's being extra careful now. She's listening at the door. What's she being so overly dramatic for? She knows I'm right behind her. What the hell, I figure. If she wants to play, I'll go with my original plan. I hear her open the door and I break my position. Door's open. One step. She's greeting the happy dogs. Two steps. She's inside the door. And I'm on her.

She jumps a foot and practically collapses backwards over the arm of the couch.

"Shit! Where'd you come from?!"
"You got a new alarm."
"Jesus!"
"I could've disabled it, but I didn't want you to have to shell out the money to have it fixed. This one's better."

We went over my reason for being there, inbetween long passionate kisses, and I had to let her know that I was prepared to hurt her in unpleasant ways if she didn't tell me everything she knew about the investigation.

I gave her a chance to change out of her uniform, take a leak, etc., and we struggled quite a bit with me trying to get her hands tied together. She fell for the, "We could keep doing this for another 20 minutes until I won, or you could be a good girl and hold your hands out for me and we'd get to the part you're hoping for that much faster."

Sucker.

She wasn't going to tell me what I wanted to know. To get her to talk, I threatened to give her an enormous love bite mark right on the side of her neck, which her superiors would certainly not see as the result of professional behavior. She spilled her guts. And quite a bit of fluids later on.

"So what's in the bag?"
"Forty feet of rope guaranteed to cure what ails you. Eight condoms. All-purpose lubricant. My knife's on the table."

A little bit of bondage later, I had her right where I wanted her. Hands tied in front. Rope wrapped around her upper torso, pinning her arms to her sides. And ankles securely tied with a full 20-foot length.

At one point, as I was fucking her with my hand, I picked up her feet by the ropes, held them high, and told her how much it pleased me to be able to control her like that, how I'd like to suspend her from the ceiling by her bound ankles, with her ass swinging just a foot or so above the floor. She came in frigging buckets. She also really liked the part where I slid my cock into her and then threw my t-shirt over her head and crudely elaborated on how good it was to have such a fine piece of meat to spill my load into.

Whew. Have I pointed out what pervs we are lately? We got to talk then about the porch portion of the scene. When I thought she was looking at me, she was looking out across the yard to see if anymore strays were going to come after Momma Cat's food. Her line of focus was probably around three feet to my left, and she didn't see me at all. The backpack made her suspicious because she couldn't understand why it was outside. She noticed the backpack because she's in the habit of checking for packages.

Slept through the night with her cradled in my arms. We fit so well together spooned.

In the morning I took care of her dogs, my dog, the cats, fetched the paper, and then crawled back in bed for another session.

This time I made up a hypnosis scene in which I cast her as the stuck-up bitch who'd been completely dismissive to the wrong guy.

Then we lazed around in bed quite a while longer. Talking, snuggling, drifting off, more sex.

I was lying next to her and noticed that she had some dry skin on the edge of her ear, like she'd gotten too much sun a few days ago, and it was peeling a bit. Without even thinking about it, I started pulling off the flakes. On about the fourth piece, she starts swatting me away and says, "What the hell are you, some kind of monkey?"

Maybe you had to be there, but it cracked us up.