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A beautiful Alien tells her life story to a journalist.
But I could see why she would never want to let Holly know about it. Frankly, if anybody saw this, she could be ruined. Much of the world still has problems accepting sex between the races. But I think she was prepared to handle that, should it come up.
Well, for almost two hours, I watched Teresa Armacost get fucked, vaginally and anally, and blow a trio of black guys. I thought having an actor sit there and act like her husband was a nice touch. It kind of sent a message on how she felt about Benjamin, especially when she kissed the phony husband after taking the black guy's cum in her mouth. It's kind of saying 'fuck you' without actually saying it.
Damn! It was almost 11:30 p.m. by the time I finished watching Teresa's video. It was time to go to bed and try to get some sleep.
I awoke at 6:15 when the alarm went off. I slept straight through, which, as I believe I have told you before, I seldom do unless I am accompanied by a member of the fairer sex in bed with me. Unlike my usual reply to the alarm clock, smacking the snooze button or sometimes throwing it across the room, I got up. I sat on the edge of the bed, yawned, and then stood up and stretched. I took care of my morning necessities and then looked outside.
It looked like it was going to be a pretty day. The sun was out, not a cloud in the sky. It reminded me of something I had been slacking off doing for the last week or so, working out. So I slipped on my usual black gym shorts, black t-shirt, a heavy pair of white sox and my running shoes. I went into my 'gym'. It was an extra bedroom I had converted into a little exercise room. Actually, I was still converting it. All of the toys were there, but having once been a bedroom didn't exactly look like a gym. Nothing real elaborate, a treadmill, a chinning bar, a weight bench, and a load of free weights. In my younger days, I was really into this crap. I never really got into 'building', but I stayed toned.
I worked out on some of the weights for a while. Ouch, could I tell I hadn't done this in a while. Even staying away from it for a week feels like you have to start all over again. Then I went for a nice run. Of course, I stopped by my gun safe and took out my trusty little Walther .380 that I can carry without the size or weight of my usual .45. Guns, to me, are kind of like one of those credit cards, I never leave home without one. In some cases two. Like I told you, there are a lot of people out there that would take a crack at me if they had a free chance. I don't plan on them having a free chance.
I have a little course through my neighborhood that is just about 2 miles. I came out of my driveway and started down the street along the curb. Let me tell you something. Cops are usually credited with developing a 6th sense. It seems like once you develop it, you have it forever. And, it's a good thing I do. It saved my ass a load of times during the ten years I was a cop, and has saved it a few more times in the 15 years I've been a private dick. The 6th sense was still working fine.
I had this feeling somebody was following me. I hadn't noticed anybody on the street when I left my driveway, but I felt the presence of someone now. I nonchalantly glanced over my shoulder and didn't see anybody on foot and didn't notice any cars other than those few parked along the road. Most of the houses around here have more driveway space than needed, so cars out on the street are few in numbers. As I got to this one curve in the road, I stopped and watched the apex of the curve. I acted like I was tying my one shoe. "Son-of-a-bitch!" I knew it. Trying to keep me 'just' in view was a white 4-door. I knew I had seen this car before. I took off running down the road again. Every time I went through a curve, I glanced back just to see if they were still back there. They were.
There is this nice little park at the far end of my community.