Oh, she was enjoying this, Christhought. Just like the little bitch, thinks she's so goddamned funny."I'm not the cheapskate who decided to live in a... basement. And I'm notthe one who had all his clothes ruined in a flood. And you know you'llhave to hold on to every penny you can until the insurance pays up. Sowhat are you going to do? Wear my clothes or no clothes?The cow was right goddamn it! He had to hold on to his cash. They wereabout the same height. Chris had never been too pleased. A good cook is hard to find. A good range cook is damn near impossible.“Matty boy, what did you bring your momma this time?”“Well, Mrs. Higgins...”She punched me in the shoulder, “Mrs. Higgins, my ass, Agnes dammit.”“Agnes, I’ve got about 75 lbs. Of venison and another of bull elk.”“Good, it’s about time we had something other than beef on the menu,” Agnes said. After we had moved everything to the meat locker, Agnes grabbed my arm and dragged me into the mess hall.“You’re a good boy Matt, now. Mike tried to keep from letting his flaccid cock grow from lusting over the curvaceous Claire. It was getting harder to do by the minute and he could hardly take it.Claire looked down at the coffee table that sat between them. There was a basket full of fruit and she picked up a banana and began to pull the skin down one side at a time. Mike had never seen someone make eating fruit so sexy. She stared at him as she let her tongue glide around the tip, before she took her first nibble. Mike. Please punish me. I deserve it.”With that Bruce pulled her up, led her to the big leather chair, and placed her across his knees. Stephanie had worked for him for more than two years, ever since she had graduated from college—the Gotham Institute of Technology, also commonly known to locals as the Gotham Institute of Slutology, because of all the sex maniac girls who attended. When Bruce had checked Stephanie’s resume and application his status as the university’s greatest benefactor opened.