The tactile difference between the forest of bristles on my cheeks, and the SS boy’s baby face, must have told her that she had hit the wrong person...She looked shocked. I said, “Relax little lady. I’m not him.” But I was thinking to myself, “What kind of broad would take a swing at the guy who had just knocked her out.”I held the brandy to her lips and said, “Here, drink this. I want to make sure there’s no permanent damage.” I knew she would have serious symptoms for a week. We just called it. She was tall, a classic platinum blonde with tits twice the size her tube top could handle. Her face was cute in a Barbie kind of way. But it was heavily made up. Her mouth screamed cock, her eyes begged: fuck me.Brigitte held herself back not to embarrass the man. Through him she might hurt Justine, her friend. Although she doubted that he would recognise her. She had been at their wedding. She even had been Justine's bridesmaid, but that was a few years back now. And Cédric was, well, let's. More

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