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The next morning, the women are lined up and tagged with a dogtag on a chain around their necks. They are warned of the fence and mines and the ten million again and then told to run, the hunt would begin in about two hours. I finally arose from my dreams of big tits and small tits and blonde and brunette pussy and dressed for the hunt. A full quiver of arrows, a compound bow, and a hunting knife. “Are the snares set” “Yes” replied my main assistant in the hunting and the camp cook. I start off and down a hill to the front of the camp. At first, there are many prints of bare feminine feet in the soft dirt, some of which break off from time to time until there was only one left. I hoped it was the big titted blonde. I followed this final set of footprints for perhaps a half-mile until I came to where the forest would open into a clearing at the edge of a pond. There on her knees is a petite redhead. Her small tits were covered with dust and dirt where she had fallen. I watched closely. It was a wonderful moment!I remember Mary being surprised after I woke up from my coma and told her that I had been looking at the stars before I had gotten hit by the jeep. She said she had been doing the exact same thing.At the time, I thought it was because Mary had been looking at the stars, she didn't see where she was driving and hit me. How else was I supposed to take it?Could I have been missing the point all along?What if, in that moment before that jeep hit my body causing my head to hit the pavement and the tires to roll over my ribs (I read the accident report)... what if Mary and I had connected, just for that brief moment?All along, I had thought that my connection with Mary, Debbie, and even Aimee had been due to the fractured skull that resulted after the Jeep hit me. Now, it was obvious that if that had been so, any connection to Mary should have occurred AFTER my head hit the ground. That wasn't the case! As I mentioned, I have no memory of my head hitting the.
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One could never quite discern his expression because the corners of his mouth hid behind it. He was well-dressed and his car well-appointed. It was a twenty mile drive to the restaurant and they said little on the way, listening to the music, instead. Finally, the Saab pulled to a stop in front of an old, but polished building. In front, hung a simple sign, Price’s Inn. ‘Here we are!’ Professor Gilbert announced. A valet opened the door for Rebecca and the Professor joined her on the sidewalk. He handed the keys to the valet and they entered the Inn. ******************* It was a nice dinner at the old inn. It was seldom that Rebecca was exposed to such things. The décor of the restaurant had an understated elegance. It wasn’t the darkly lit café style that Rebecca had expected. Their conversation centered on ‘shop talk’. Professor Gilbert enthralled Rebecca with descriptions of research projects to be, awards that his other grad students had won, new additions to the labs. All the.

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