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The mountain lions, however, looked hungry. They looked hungrily at us.They have to go.Fortunately, Mother dropped me cradling my 50 ... I removed the...lions, without disturbing the bears or the sabertooth.My 50 is not a Barrett. It's not a sniper rifle, it doesn't have a night scope, or a bi-pod. It's not a semi-automatic. It's a single shot rotating bolt action with a lever action rising block I made in my shop.I have a Bridgeport, a Delta lathe with a mill setup and an end mill. I also have a. You smile and catch my hand, with a quick hello, as you pull me to you. Your arms wrapping around my waist, turning me so my back is to your chest, holding me close. I bite my lip and look out over the edge of the boat. The water just underneath my feet, your arms around me, and still wondering if I will sink when I take the leap. I sigh, standing against you, in silence, staring out into the now slightly lit sky as dawn begins to break. A gust of wind whooshes past, and suddenly, my white. For the first time I took in his formidable body and wondered how I could have underestimated this man. How I could have been so cruel. His build was athletic and wide. His muscles weren’t cut but he was immense – not a hair on his body. I leaned forward in my ties wanting to taste him. He advanced again.“Now let’s talk about your timekeeping young lady.” He flourished the belt in front of me holding the buckle he used the other to slowly stretch out the soft but firm brown leather. “7:09PM I. .” I was a bit reluctant but I agreed anyway. Marco took me into his car and we drove off. He said he needs to drop by his home and change. When we arrived, he invited me upstairs. “Pour yourself a drink,” he said, “I’ll only be a few minutes”.His living room was pretty spartan, but tastefully decorated. A couch, a coffee table, a TV, a drinks cabinet, a few paintings on the walls, and a small wooden chair. I guess for guests. The afternoon sun was warming the room and creating a lovely.
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