It had transpired that Mr Bryant and his wife owned a cottage on the outskirts of town, which they rented out to holiday makers. At the moment it was ...acant, which had no doubt played into Mr Bryant’s hands. Quite what he told his wife, she didn’t know, nor did she much care. She found the place easily enough, Mr Bryant waiting in the lane. The cottage lay alone just round a bend, hidden from the other houses. It was an overcast day, but Mr Bryant was unconscionably sunny, greeting Corinne with. ‘All you have to do, is squeeze.’ he said softly, watching the gun stay true and steady in her small grasp, he found himself unable to stop his hands from wandering across her stomach and around her waist as he held her, his hand traveling down her thigh, fingers playing lightly with the hem of her skirt, tickling her smooth skin. She stayed rigid however, only her breathing became deeper. His mouth was now tight against her bare shoulder, his eyes watching over the top of his shades as she. More

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