Wine and Gun

All in all, McCard's gut told him that time was running out.

But even so, he didn't really want to share his mental journey with the person in front of him.

"It still has something to do with me."

Stryder answered equivocally, smiling at McCard's bewildering wonder.

"What if I said I could give you an idea for the arrest of the Westland pianist?"

The fabrics were piled up in a mess on the ground. Normally, people with obsessive-compulsive disorders like Herstal would definitely not tolerate them being neatly hung on the hangers, but tonight it seems that they don't have time to take care of that much.

Now, his naked body was attached to the tiles that were gradually warmed by his body temperature. Albarino was still well-dressed, except that the collar of his shirt had been loosened by two buttons. The man was too patiently rubbing sharp canine teeth against the skin of the side of his neck, one hand on his shoulder and the other down his belly.

There are some calluses on the pulp of that hand, is it sharpened by scalpel and other knives? When Albarino's fingers rubbed against Herstal's yīnjīng, he hadn't hardened at all.

In all fairness, after so many things happened at night, he didn't really want to have sex at all, but his piercing desire didn't say that. What Herstal Amalet longed for was something close to death, because he couldn't just let himself die.

—The closest thing to this kind of thing is Albarino Bacchus.

He knew that Albarino understood.

The other party probably understood, so the other party roughly played with the fragile organ with his hands, ignoring Herstal's slight flinching twist. Human instinct is so vulgar, intuitive and uncontrollable that even if he doesn't want to, he can indeed be gradually hardened by the intuitive stimulation of the senses. That wasn't a joy, the devil holding him rubbed the prostatic fluid on the delicate skin with his fingertips, making a sticky, slippery sound, all sounds like a reaction to his encounter and reaction Chi Luǒ bluntly mocked.

Herstal squeaked between each other's fingers for the first time, not much pleasure, only tingling and bone-stinging itch. Albarino was still trying to calm his breathing as he lowered his head and wiped the sticky bodily fluids from his sweaty belly.

"My plan for tonight is this, Mr. Armalite." Albarino recounted in a calm voice, very much like the time they had just met, and at the very beginning - even in Herstadt When Er didn't know that the other party was the Sunday gardener, he never thought that one day he would choose the other party as his home.

"Tonight I'll make you shew three or four times, if you can, five times," Albarino said lightly, leaving a bright red, wet, sucking mark on his collarbone." I'll fuck you after your legs are so weak you can't stand up, and while I'm still inside you, you'll be exhausted and unable to restrain yourself from falling asleep."

The hand he was resting on the opponent's shoulder seemed to slide down unintentionally, and then quickly and ruthlessly pinched Herstal's rǔ tip, and heard the opponent hiss lowly.

"You will briefly experience silence, darkness and sleep."

Albarino's voice was as soft as the wind, he loosened the red skin that was almost torn, and kissed Herstal lightly on the corner of his mouth.

"That's the only thing I can give you besides death, Mr. Armalette."

Hunter had just taken a shower when the phone rang, his hair was still wet, and his legs were starting to hurt from standing for too long.

In this way, he slammed onto the hotel room with a stiff slam. Although the economy of White Oak Town is not as good as a year, the hotel here is still comfortable: the room is soft, the floor is clean, and the rooms are soundproofed. Not bad. This was the luckiest thing Hunter could think of, and it would be a bit too miserable for him to live uncomfortably after so many busy days.

It was the little brat called Midalen who was the only one who knew where he was now, what he wanted, and what the hotel's landline number was.

Hunter lay on the bed and didn't want to move. He struggled for a while, rolled over and pulled the phone receiver on the headboard of the bed. The young man's voice sounded slightly distorted on the phone, and his first sentence started like this :

"Stride was acquitted."

"I know. Boy, I have internet access even though I'm in the middle of nowhere," Hunter told Midalen, his laptop still lying on a hotel table.

In fact, less than three minutes after the end of the trial this afternoon, news about the outcome of the trial has been uploaded everywhere on the Internet. It seems that in addition to Westland, there are many people who are paying attention to it. In this horrific case, even Hunter didn't escape the 30-second speed-reading news broadcast on the local White Oaks TV station during dinner: He is now in Kentucky.

Midalen's response was silence, Hunter thought for a while, then asked, "Can't you accept this reality?"

"I heard Ms. Hardy say that the chances of us winning the case are slim, but when it really happens..." Midaren paused, Hunter heard for the first time in the irascible child's voice When there is a trace of uncertainty, "...it is still difficult to accept such a reality. I have always hoped that the jury will make a correct judgment before this."

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