" You make him sound like a damn saint," Richard grumbled rebelliously."Saint Spook? No, not that. Just a being who wants a reason for living and want... that reason to be a good one. To do the best he can to set things right and prevent wrongs. To stop hospital patients from being murdered by crazy bombers and keep wives from killing off their husbands and all that. Does he still scare you?" It's all on his judgment alone, though, isn't it, Jack?" he pressed."His judgment, yes," I confirmed.. I wash my arms and run my hands over my breasts quickly, down my legs and back up. Fully soaped, I turn rapidly letting the water hit all sides as I rubbed briskly. I have no idea what Brad is probably thinking if he’s looking at me. I remember my dad used to say I was built like a brick shithouse when I was growing up. I was always confused whether this was a compliment. Todays’ girls are called thick, at least that’s what Brad and his buddies called girls they went to school with, that were. More

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