”“Police! Get on the ground!”“Don’t move! Don’t move!”Tom cleared one side of the room he was entering and turned to the other with his ...ossberg Shotgun raised. A skinhead with a swastika on his forehead and many more Aryan Brotherhood tattoos on his body was just standing up from the couch he’d been sitting on when the police had broken down his front door. He’d been reaching for an Uzi that sat on the coffee table in front of him. Another inch of movement towards it and Thomas would have to. The sweatshirt had been replaced with a cream openneck silk blouse that reached down to below her waist. I vaguely rememberingtaking in the fact that there appeared to be nothing below the blouse. Theboots had my total and undivided attention. She was wearing boots that werethe foundation of most of my fantasies. It seemed karmic, that finally I shouldmeet a woman, no, a mistress who not only knew how to command but was wearingthe very sort of boot that I had only ever dreamt about. The sun. More

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