Mentally, I vowed to get a real look at them before she left. Short and with a huge ass to match her chest. Blue eyes behind thick glasses. Back at...the house I became a constant pest. Partially boredom and partly just because I liked her, I was hanging around her all the time. In the morning she would lounge around in a satiny red robe with her long hair up in a towel. I would stare at her smooth fat white calves hanging out from her robe as she sat drinking coffee and ask her questions. She had been debriefed, almost interrogated about what had happened. They had not believed her when she told them Paul Tyler was in fact a double agent called Goldhill and when they checked out the location where she had been held there were of course no signs that anything had happened there. Only when Tyler/Goldhill disappeared off the grid did anyone give any credence to her claims. Even then she had had to endure months of deep counselling and analysis to convince her superiors she was not. More

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