Slowly and sensuously as I could, I reached behind me and started to play with the clasps on my bra. I wiggled a little bit and hummed a few bars of "The Stripper."

"Quit fooling around or I'll finish it off for you." he said.

Not paying any attention, I reached down and dropped my slip to the floor. I was now facing him in bra and panties!

"The bra, the bra, take off the goddam bra, let's see something!"

I went back to playing with the strap, opening the clasp and playing with it in front of me. Impatience finally got the best of him, and I won the waiting game. He moved swiftly in front of me and grasped the front of the garment. Yanking it out of my hands, he tossed it on the floor. Thus he became the first man to have a look at the wonderful soft breasts that the good doctor had given me, in New York. As I stood there chest heaving, he hesitated for a moment, as he began to look over his newly conquered domain. We were reaching the end of the game, because if the panties were to come off, he would discover something else that the doctor had not had the opportunity to touch.

In that moment of hesitation, I did the obvious thing, freed of slip and skirt, my legs, nylon encased were free to swing, and my right one came up just as my instructor had taught me. Almost with precision, I placed my light blue kid pump in his groin. The stylishly pointed toe, digging in as recommended. I pushed back away from him and fell backwards in a convincing but soft judo fall. He was bent over in pain, giving me the opportunity to kick off the high heels, and reach inside my garter belt, to the little compartment that I had hollowed out in my hip padding. My figure was decreased a little as I brought out the lethal contents of the hidden pouch. The light of the gas lantern glinted for an instant on the highly polished blade, as my friend of many close ones came to my hip in the classic pose of a street fighter.

The gangster had partially recovered by then and was trying to circle back toward Chrissy and his gun. I moved in to cut him off, and we cir- cled away. The tables had turned and he was sweating profusely as he faced the 5 inches of death. How difficult it must have been for him to watch the lovely girl before him, the soft nudeness of her breasts, rising with each breath, the tousled curly hair-do and the light blue eyeshadow adding to the glitter of the steel grey cold eyes of a professional killer. It was only a matter of time, we both knew, and I decided that I should

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