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He realized then that it wasn't what had happened that they were afraid of - it was him. Nervous laughs spread across the room, growing louder as Guy joined in with a grin. I g-guess we'll need a new instructor!", one of the women called out. gay Every woman here was sure to be talking about this for weeks, if not longer. Perhaps even moreso than she might be otherwise, considering the spectacle he'd made of it. Seeming barely to care that he'd killed her, Kim was visibly jealous after seeing him so publicly fuck another woman when he was with her. Only one face stood out, meeting his eyes with hurt, embarrassed indignation.
Half were staring at him, cock still out, the other half staring at their instructor's cooling corpse. Turning gays slowly to face the group of gathered women, Guy looked out across their blank, shocked feminine faces. Yet at both opportunities, she had decided to hold true to her homosexual final words. If she'd used that final touch to push his hand away, he would have let her go. He'd given her a chance to live, to keep breathing. Nothing could have been more clear to him.
Why would they have such a reputation, if this was not the sort of thing that a man might do? Even considering all that, all the arguments he could use to excuse himself if needed, there seemed to him to be one overriding, all-important factor. Always he'd heard men described as brutal, dangerous. Beyond that, something about that had felt. No court would ever convict him of anything. He was special, rare and prized, privileged in ways unique to his sex. Yet, like the word 'pretty', was murder something that could really be applied to a man? Guy was not like the women who stabbed one another over petty problems, killed one another in quarrels.