It was stiff now. Most of the cum had dried. The smell of male fluids; fresh, virile sperm, was almost overpowering. I nearly threw it away. But then ... smiled and dropped it in the hamper. From this day forward I would wear that blouse and think of what happened to me today. No, I didn't want to throw that blouse away.The skirt was nearly as bad. The cum was caked on the inside of the back of the skirt where it had leaked out of me while I drove home. I dropped the skirt and the blanket in the. “Mundt is their man; he gives them what they need. That’s easy enough to understand, isn’t it? Leninism – the expediency of temporary alliances. What do you think spies are: priests, saints and martyrs? They’re a squalid procession of vain fools, traitors, too, yes; pansies, sadists and drunkards, people who play Cowboys and Indians to brighten their rotten lives. Do you think they sit like monks in London, balancing the rights and wrongs? I’d have killed Mundt if I could, I hate his guts; but. More

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