"I didn't sit down but instead asked, "How do you know my name?"Pulling something out of his pocket he read what appeared to be my drivers' license. "Martin White, born April 3."I demanded, "Give that back to me." All in good time. Now sit," he ordered, his tone more aggressive and clearly absolutely intolerant of any insubordination.This time I did as I was told."So we have a bit of a predicament Martin," he began."And what would that be?" I asked, shooting down the rest of my drink and getting rather annoyed by the whole situation.Bulldog snapped his fingers and the Matt Damon looking faggot got up and went to the bar, assumedly to get me another drink."You see when you entered here you became part of the Iron Rod family," he continued."Which means?" I asked, glancing back to the white dude still slobbering up and down on Bulldog's cock. A thought of sucking cock flashed in my head and I just as quickly dismissed it."Still in denial aren't you Martin?" Bulldog asked."What!" I asked,. "Danielle, this is Phil."She extended her hand and Phil took it gently in his. "Your pictures don'tdo you justice," he said, shaking her hand."Thank you, Phil," she replied. "It's nice to meet you," she said as shelooked him over. Even though she stood 6'4" in her heels, Phil easilytopped her by three inches. His body looked very slim in his western-motifshirt, denim jeans and cowboy boots. His shoulder-length hair andhorseshoe mustache gave him the handsome appearance of being one of any1970's-era rock star."Same here," he said.She stepped aside as Ron closed the door. He took her left hand and walkedtoward the front of the truck. She looked around as Phil came up on herright, taking her hand as well. She walked, holding hands of both men,toward the front of the truck, looking around the repair bay, all threeenjoying the "click-clack" of her heels on the concrete floor, echoingthrough the large room."It's ok to play here, Danielle, I do it very often when my brother isstaying with.
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