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Yes, I guess you could pick me up after school.”). Our times together ranged from a tumble and grind on the living room floor or heavy necking and petting in the back seat surrounded by groceries to detailed lessons in the subtle nuances of cunnilingus after a luxurious bubble bath.It was in my senior year that I was mostly seeing a sweet, pixie-ish, little gymnastics jockette, my Laurie-lovey. She had a tight, compact body that was just adorable and a tongue I could not believe. I was a cheerleader on the basketball squad then and she liked to sit in the front row and watch me jump around. She would get all turned on watching my butt jiggle under my short skirt. Afterwards, she would take me to her house where her parents didn’t pay any attention to her comings and goings. I remember the soft music she put on to cover our sounds and the sparse streetlight from the window as we immersed ourselves in each other for hours, like a coma of lust.It was one typical such night we were. But I was wrong. Two cop cars showed up, drifting a little in opposite ways as they skidded to a halt in front of me.The two cops in the first car were the first to get out. They drew their guns and aimed them at me, holding them just above the joint between the door and car frame. "Put the sword down, NOW!" I didn't heed the command and calmly walked over the car. The cops still had their pistols trained on me, but didn't fire. They should have. Swinging the sword, it cut the hood and engine of the vehicle in half, right down the middle. The driver called for back-up as he moved back, trying to explain the situation, while the passenger opened fire. As if the sword knew that there was death hurdling towards its user, it came up and absorbed the hits without showing so much as a scratch or dent.The cop stood in amazement even as I brought the sword across his neck, decapitating him. The car was now completely gone, and the other police officer was in a full sprint, blindly firing in.
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