I am anxious to get those lovely tits in my hands."June blushed and giggled. "I did say I'd put myself in your hands, didn't I?"They then walked arm i...n arm to Henry's car and headed out to dinner. Henry took June to one of the nicer restaurants in town. They were seated next to each other at a corner table. Henry ordered steak and lobster for both of them and a bottle of wine.Even though they both knew why she was with him, Henry wanted to seduce his date. After all, June wasn't a teenager, and. Until that problem was solved, there was no way to keep an atmosphere around the planet. The only initial idea for melting the Martian core was a series of hydrogen bomb explosions, but that would take more bombs than existed on Earth at the time. Besides, I didn't think that any nation was going to give up its hydrogen bombs, even if we did pay a fair price for them. Dammit, there had to be a solution, and one of our bright physical chemists came up with a possible answer.Jeff Davis proposed. C.I. Griffin and PC Johnson wandered into was one of those loosely organized affairs with owners more interested in their own booze and budding romances to be much concerned about correct tallies or delivering prompt service.Still, the draft was quite varied and the atmosphere was jovial and calming at the same time. He was half expecting his attractive female subordinate to be regaling him with dreadful stories of her departed spouse's transgressions but found that they spent more time talking. I was going to continue, but a deafening crash from outside stopped me cold. It sounded like a car hitting a tree. But I knew what it really was.In a second, my automatic garage door ripped out its track and flew across the street. Standing in the middle of my driveway was Becky Finklestein, wearing a field hockey skirt that was laughably inadequate to cover her thighs, and a sleeveless field hockey blouse that couldn’t sufficiently cover any part of her bulging torso. And she looked pissed.“We.