She was on the prowl. She opened the pantry door that led out to the garage and just as she'd hoped, her dad was working on getting the van running, his legs sticking out from underneath the van.Mac didn't hear Darla. She stood over her father with one leg on either side of the mechanic's cart and cleared her throat, "Daddy, do you want something to drink?"When Mac heard her voice, he couldn't help but smile. She wanted him. He heard it in her voice. And he needed her... if only once more. At that moment, there was no doubt in his mind that she was back for more. Mac reached out to try and roll out from underneath the van and found Darla's legs on either side of his cart. He used her legs for leverage to pull himself out. As Mac rolled completely out, he could see straight up his daughter's dress. And there for him to enjoy was her beautiful, curvaceous, womanly body. Darla squat down brining her cunt inches from Mac's face and asked coyly, "Daddy, are you hungry or thirsty?" Mac. He tried to force me. Neither he nor his bodyguards were ever found. I have said that I am not a murderer. I never said I wasn't a killer. That night I had fed without regret.Myron and I began to see each other. Even if it was just stopping by my office when he came to Saigon, I looked forward to any time I got to spend with him. We went out several times, to eat, to shop, just to wander the streets of Saigon. One unforgettable night we went to a wonderful French restaurant. Previously I had argued him into letting me pay. I, after all, was the one on the expense account. This time he insisted. I knew that he would not dream of believing this entitled him to sexual recompense. That in itself made me promise myself that tonight he would end up in my bed.After the meal we danced. We danced slowly, feeling the heat between us build hotter than the still night around us, hotter than the jungles that lay too near. I couldn't stand it anymore. As the band broke for a breather, I went to.
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