Hank was getting pissed now. He forgot that he was shooting the big balls this game and took aim on the 6-ball. Jake never said a word as Hank sunk th...e six.Hank started to line up for his next shot as Jake grabbed the cue ball from the table."Hey, what the fuck you think yer doin?" Hank growled at Jake."My shot, ball in hand. That was a bad hit you just made,"Hank saw red now. "No fucking way asshole. I'm shooting the little ones. Gimme that fucking cueball." Yer wrong shithead," said Jake. He. Suddenly he was up on his rear haunches, one talon-clawed paw on either of my shoulders and the back of my neck clamped firmly between his teeth. His breath flowing around my neck was horrid. "Okay, okay," I acquiesced. "I get the point." Then, as the powerful muscles in his jaw began to clamp shut on my neck, "Please! Anything you want!" It was a short-lived rebellion. He dropped back to all fours and so did I. He sniffed me up and down my flank and licked my right cheek. I took it. He. She often thought she was doing something wrong, something immoral and even illegal. Yet love made her do things that she would never have thought about.She sat up in the firm twin bed and shook out her long, straight dark hair before realizing the Sarah Jane was again at anchor. The sound of gentle waves washing against the metal hull and the easy movement of the sailboat told the tale. She may dislike the water, but she had learned a few things in the last few years with her husband.With easy. But there's nothing much to do except drink at this time of the night, and he isn't lonely enough for that.It's more that he's at a loose end.His girl's out with her bestie, his mates are watching a game somewhere, and his brother is on a date. As he rummages through the basket his fingers snag on something soft. Something which can't possibly be his, he thinks as he pulls it free of the tangled soiled bedsheets.Turns out he's right. The lacy underwear he's affectionately dubbed mocha patch.