That’s a police officer’s job. Paul met me outside the Memphis Police Academy entrance with a strong handshake and a hug. We walked together with Max into the building and out the back door to a small grandstand where we watched as candidates took their turns at what I always called the asian “shooting gallery” in which figures appear suddenly in doorways and windows and the cadet has to decide to shoot or not based on an instant’s recognition. We watched six cadets go through the course and all made some mistakes. Of course, the track changed every time so each cadet had to be on his or her toes. I was pleased to see that Aimee Johnstone, Pastor Michaels’ niece, did very well on what Paul told me was her first experience. We retired then to the cafeteria for lunch, but only after I accused Paul of being a really cheap bastard. After lunch we walked with the cadets—forty eight of them—to the firing range where Paul had set up four fruits on a saw horse at what he claimed was fifty yards. “You might think it’s impossible to hit these at fifty yards, but I’ve seen Chief Cahill do it dozens of times when we were U.S. Marshals together.” I turned to face the potential officers. “I tell our officers that shooting is nothing more than practice and concentration. Of course, you have to practice the right techniques or you’ll fail repeatedly with no chance of improvement. You also need to know that the bullet will start to fall as soon as it’s out of the muzzle. How far will it fall will depend on the distance to the target and its muzzle velocity.” Holding my pistol up I explained, “This is a .44 Magnum—a Colt Python, what many shooters consider to be the best handgun ever made. It should be for what it cost me. It is not a pistol for everyone because it’s very heavy and it kicks like a mule as you will soon see.” I loaded the cylinder then laughed. “My friend Chief McCormick is cheating here because I usually do this at fifty yards and I can see that the targets here are at least seventy-five, but that’s okay. I need to make a slight adjustment. At fifty yards the bullet from this gun will fall about an inch and a half. At seventy-five it will be almost double because it’s a matter of acceleration not steady speed.” I closed the cylinder and repeated, “Practice and concentration. Arms straight but relaxed. The red dot on the front sight exactly in the bottom of the ‘V’ at the rear and aiming above the center of the fruit. Pull the trigger indian gently while exhaling, like this.” I fired and the cantaloupe disintegrated. I followed in short order with the apple and the plum before asking bbw Paul what the final fruit was. “That’s a cherry tomato from my garden,” he said laughing. I had holstered my weapon before speaking to him so I drew quickly, raised my weapon as I pulled the hammer back to full cocked position. I had only aimed for a second when I pulled the trigger and the fruit disappeared in a puff of red smoke. “The trick here is to find a point beyond the target that you can aim at. I did that when I was aiming at the apple and plum. Then it was just a matter of finding the same spot again, relaxing, and firing. “I really hope that you never have to fire your weapon, but you need to know that you can if necessary and that you have confidence that you’ll hit your target. Most of the time your target will be fifty feet or less away and you’ll hear your instructors tell you to aim at the body mass. That’s excellent advice. Aiming for the torso is your best bet. You’ll also be told to shoot at least three times. If someone is out there trying to kill you or some innocent person, forget all the bullshit about disarming or just wounding him. The only real choice is to kill the bastard before he kills you or some hostage” “That’s excellent advice, Matt. Would you shoot at a regular target for us?” I agreed and a silhouette of a man with concentric circles on his torso was removed to fifty feet until I told the Range Master to move it back to one hundred. I emptied the cylinder, reinserting the two unused cartridges along with four from my belt. I was given the “GO” signal once my ear protection was in place. The white-haired beauty looked over her shoulder and frowned with concern at me, before turning her attention back to the road. “I saw you play in that tournament. "He's going to give me two suppositories to be sure I'm cleaned out then he's going to finish." I roughly parted her legs wide and stretched them out as much as I could. The room had been hunting her for a few days now, the mess she knew was there, she felt as asian it disrespected the memory. It would give me mind control...? That night, our people danced as we were meant to; before the roar of a great fire, beneath the blanket of stars. "We're already going to the police. "Well you better work it out. Even better, Mrs. Cantrell was a blonde like Becky's mother. I notice quite a few items I have no idea what they’re for. I released his cock indian which was now a bit limp, dry from unleashing his load on me and down my throat. Lt. Stuller took out his blaster gun and tried to shoot the worm. “Master, Now I know why the other girls like being tucked in. This is wonderful.” Then I felt my orgasm bbw building as he started sucking hard and before the edge approached I squeezed his ass and he too backed off. Poor Shevoin squeezed her tits as he let out a long, throaty groan. I see a lot of people commenting their names but i figure "what the hell, i have nothing to lose" so i drop my sc name. Nin had her arm linked through Rogers and I trailed behind, the siren of the blushing waving girls in the bars we passed making me stumble and become disorientated. It felt so incredibly good to let her finger trace the bud of her clit. You will wear a tail all the time and no under wear, except when nature makes it impossible. At any moment it could collapse.