..” he mused. “For the most part, your mother aimed for the heart: four bullets, all four through the heart. But you seem to aim for the head. I s...ppose that’s a good thing,” he said with a grin, “because if you’re ever both in a shoot-out, the guys with the bullets in their heart are your mother’s, while the ones with bullets in the brain are yours.”He asked Susan to bring her weapon into the station for ballistics testing although, since she had fired hollow-points that had destroyed two. That is what Ian calls me at least, my mum doesnt really call me much at all. I should tell you a bit about myself, I am fifteen years old, white, with long dark brown hair. I am about 55, slim and beautiful with a heart shaped face and firm young tits, pretty large for my age if not actually big. In the kitchen, my darling mothers voice echoed through the house directing her bullish boy friend right to me, thanks mum. Ian was a bastard and that was no surprise, he was the newest in a long. More

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