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U.S. Declares War on Intellectual Property Theft
bblazer writes "Reuters is running a story about a new US effort to stop intellectual property theft. From the article "The U.S. Justice Department on Tuesday outlined what it called its most sweeping crackdown on bootleg DVDs, fake designer goods, illegal music downloads and counterfeit drugs." It also goes on to say that media (movies and music) is highly affected, but so are products like batteries, baby food and Viagra."
He watched the bubbles spiraling upwards in the tulip glass, then pressed it to his lips and filled his mouth. The Laurent Perrier exploded in a thousand mingled flavors as it bathed his tongue.
"Can it possibly be three years?" he thought to himself.
Three years, meeting every other month, would be eighteen encounters like the one that was to follow this evening. All told, there were eighteen delicious, decadent experiences with this wonderful woman. She was his escape for what would other wise have been and ordinary life.
Each encounter escalated in intensity, each one more exhilarating, and each one more intimate than the one before. He sipped at his glass again and began to enjoy a mental slide show when the door to the bedroom opened and she walked into the room.
He could feel his face flush as she padded across the thick carpet towards him. The look on her face could best be described as playful, but with an obvious undercurrent of passion and excitement. He could feel his cock begin to swell at the sight of her.
Her long legs were cloaked in light opaque colored thigh high stockings. Her legs flickered with a slight luminescence when the light hit them just so. Her bra was a demi-cup that cradled her breasts upwards. This insured that her nipples and the top half of her areola would be exposed. The jiggling of her breast flesh as she walked inflamed him as always, and he enjoyed the display for a moment before his eyes moved slowly down her body.
Other than the hose and the bra, she remained naked. Although light in color, the hair between her thighs was full and almost the same color of her hair, a cross between strawberry blonde and a light red, and the notch at the top of her sex clearly visible and enticing.
She reached to pick up her own glass of champagne, her breasts almost tumbling free from the bra as she did, then sat at the edge of the sofa across from him. Her eyes sparkled. "You like?"
His excitement became obvious when his voice cracked slightly, "Good God! Yes baby. Now you've done your job, it's time for mine!" He closed the distance between them, bent to kiss her, and then slowly dropped to his knees.
Slowly, as if to prolong the pleasure, he spread her thighs apart. He noticed the slight reflection of her moisture as he reached into his trouser pocket.
Long ago they had discovered there are many uses for a moustache trimmer other than those displayed on the box it came in. A wanton look spread across her face as she lay back, took another sip from her glass, and watched him as he went about his work. With near professional precision he traced the outline of her pubis, as if marking the boundary between innocent flesh and the object of his desire.
Satisfied with the first phase, he began running the trimmer across first her mound, then the puffy curves of her already swelling lips. He brushed the silken hair at the top of her slit upwards so it could receive equal attention, and when he was satisfied with his work, turned the razor off and set it on the cocktail table at the end of the sofa.
Wordlessly, he lifted her to standing and reached into his other trouser pocket. His hand returned to view, a coil of gold captured in his palm. She slowly closed her eyes and opened her arms to allow his access, one hand still holding the bubbling liquid.
He nuzzled the end of one bra cup down, exposing the whole of her nipple, then using his lips and teeth, brought it from partial to full attention. He continued to nurse on her as his hands toyed with the strand of gold. At each end was a silver clasped slipknot. He opened it just enough to slide down the length of her nipple, then pulled it taught. She gasped as she felt the pressure, not from pain, but from arousal. She took her free hand and stroked the back of his head as he repeated the procedure on her other breast.
"Sugar, you look so fucking hot! You ready for the final touch?"
Her face was in full flus
I don't think we're at war with Iowa yet...I suppose it's only a matter of time though.
> Will american soldiers die in this war?
and will they kill any British soldiers?