OH LOOK! IT'S THE GUIDELINES!
WHY NOT READ THIS BEFORE SUBMITTING?
WOULDN'T THAT BE FUN?
Six of the best
“What… What do you think you are doing,” the older woman said as she stared at her male companion. He had been supplied by the agency she used regularly, and had come with the highest of recommendations – and now he was holding a gun and pointing it towards her?
“Well, right now Madame, I am ordering you, at gunpoint, to take that very expensive dress off, and then to sit on the bed, keeping your hands where I can see them.” He was impeccably dressed, black jacket and pants, white shirt, black bow tie – but she could tell he was not kidding, as she reached behind her back and slowly pulled down the zip on the white strapless dress she was wearing. As it fell to the floor, he smiled as he looked at her, in her white basque and thigh high white leather boots.
“Sit on the bed,” he said quietly, “hands in front of you, and cross your ankles.
“If this is a robbery,
Adam and Eve - Family Bonding
The snow was falling lightly down as the brown Fiat drew up outside the semi-detached house, and April Jones got out from the driver’s seat. In her late fifties, she had blonde hair which was brushed back and up, and was wearing a light brown sheepskin coat over a fawn coloured jumper, a matching skirt, knee length suede boots in the same shade of brown, and tights.
As she closed the door, her daughter May got out from the other side. She long light brown hair falling over the shoulders of her red coat, a white t-shirt visible underneath and a tartan scarf round her neck. Her black leather trousers were tucked into a pair of dark brown leather riding boots.
“Right – business taken care of,” April said as she locked the car, “we can enjoy a nice quiet weekend now, just the two of us, no distractions, no surprises.”
“I hope so Mum,” May said as they walked to the front door, “I really need some qu
Madame's Special Negotiation
As she walked into the conference room, the blonde haired Californian smiled at the other two women sitting there.
“Good morning, Lily, Tracey,” she said as she sat down, adjusting the fit of her linen jacket, “and what delights do we have on the table for today? No emergencies I trust?”
“Not today, as such,” Lily Harmon said as she sat at the table, wearing a black jersey dress and heels. Next to her was Tracey Cocker, wearing a black leather jacket over a white t-shirt and black leggings, smiling as she said “and yet, here the three of us are. Why?”
“Madame has asked us to undertake a particular task – a snatch, but it must be done with all care and decorum. So she has assigned it to us.”
“And the purpose of this snatch?”
“There is some information Madame requires from a certain diplomat – and the easiest way to get him to divulge the location of this information is by in
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