Cyber Kittens and Cowboys Ipam (reading a book txt) 📖

narrows field of gifted candidatesfor creation of newly funded division of FBI Cyber outer space inBirmingham. They join and the rest is history as dead historianslikes to quote.

Present day.

Preston, Arthur & Larry work, diligentlyround the clock as christened FBI special agent newbies on 1651,1st Avenue. Work hours are demanding while daylight hours areshort. Every second, minute & hour tick tocks tracking, tracing& trailing Cyber creeps into concrete jail cells around Alabamainstead of romancing, dancing & dating opposite sex for fun& games.

Preston holds, subjectively the worse job indepartment as Director over the howling and hunting hillbilliesresponsible for his field performance as well as theirs whilejuggling mounds of dead tree limbs of FBI paperwork. Computers aresupposed to make life easier maybe, in the year 2080 after he’sretired from old age. Preston loves shitting on enemies ofAmericans kinda like a modern day cowboy living in the new WestHemisphere of Earth. But, he hates sitting around friendliestalking & busting words instead of physical actions creatingvery long days except… today.

Spaghetti day comes along with Ilenn’s prettyco-workers, Pamela and Lacy.

Preston enjoys, wickedly the good food andthe great view mentally re-charging his brain cells of Arthur’sbrief highlighted points of each Cyber kitten’s potential.

Lacy is 5 feet, 3 inches of petite height andaverage weight with short crop of bright Heavenly Angel hair ofplatinum blonde framing elf-like round soft glowing fair face,huge, expressive doe eyes of emerald green gems framed by spideryblack eyelashes, cute button nose & soft rosy lush lips,single, available & tapping, slightly & seductively hersandal against his cowboy boot.

Preston feels beauty comes in all differentshapes, sizes & smarts. He swallows, deliciously anothermonster ball then winks, flirtatiously at Lacy.

She giggles, lightly then thumps, swiftlyanother round of toe play at his thick hide cow leather whilepretending to pick her full plate of food with fork and drink,heavily of almost empty glass of sweet tea as ice cubes jingle insong. He smiles, sweetly.

Lacy has recently been dumped by her oldboyfriend & passionately looking for the next. She has workedfor Cyber Crimes four years as Retriever, owns house in MountainBrook, rides bicycle six miles per day at night after work &enjoys bending some of Cyber rules without Geneva’s knowings.

Pamela possesses wavy black hair down herslender back and beyond pulled into ponytail, slanted eyelidscovering bright cornflower blue eyeballs under short dark bangs.Complexion is olive with tanned kisses of light brown frecklesacross her naturally sharp nose and undusted cheekbones, pink warmlips & sits, prettily ladylike in chair. Based on body type,while admiringly sleeveless white cotton blouse with toned bicepsand two fleshy tissues cheering their overflowing “C” cups, Prestonguesses, educationally at 120 pounds on tall 5 feet, 10 inchedframe.

Preston isn’t picking about dates as long asthey are reasonably pretty. He has dated his share of doggies withnice personalities or evil intentions. Evil girls gives him thecreepettes. He doesn’t like female stalkers looking for husbands orhoodies. Preston prefers, simply quiet types with shy qualifies. Healso finds that cute move when Pamela dives, quickly pretty blueeyes into spaghetti as she spies, subtlety on him. He chuckles,lightly.

Pamela has worked for one year for Geneva.Arthur’s other secret researched data comes up 0.00 about Pamelawhich translates for Preston: she follows, soldierly Cyber rules.Preston notes, observantly she likes food, polishing off spaghetti,meatballs and two rolls.

Pamela vibes on hip, not figuratively. Pageris warmingly warning an invasion on her sector of Cyber space. Shemews, softly & eye burns Preston. Preston enjoys, seductivelymoping plate clean with buttery roll. She stands, swiftly as eyeballs dart upwardly.

“Sorry, folks! Gotta go!” Pamela waves,horizontally black pager in air & frowns, ugly. She grabs dirtytray & aims at trash receptacle. She hopes beyond hope shecould have enjoyed a couple of shared bites of Key Lime pie withsuave and dreamy Preston. Today, ain’t that day, maybe Preston willfollow Arthur to lunch tomorrow.

Preston eye burns Pamela’s path to trash binthen, anticipated door archway. He pats, roughly cell. “Damn! Beback in a sec!” He scoots, nosily chair & lifts, slowly deadcell phone to ear while gallops, swiftly from table interceptingPamela before she exits…forever. Two girls, two choices, Prestonchooses her. She likes to eat & follows the rules and he likesher long sexy legs.

Pamela taps, staccato beats into open hallwayas baritone trombone rumbles. “Hey, Pamela, right?” Sexy voice andburning heat approach from left near her body.

Pamela swings, gracefully about & eyeburns Preston with cell phone partially to his neck. She grins,toothy & corrects, pridely as Mr. Handsome Hulk recalls hername. “Right, Pamela. You’re Preston.”

“Pamela…” He clears, nosily throat like highschool fool. “…maybe we can have supper… sometimes…howabout…tonight, if you’re not too busy?”

Pamela’s silly grin already slices, painfullyinto cheekbones from smiling long and wide, now Mr. Handsome Hulkwants to eat dinner with her, tonight. She presses, more deeplypolished white enamel away from pink lips & talks, boringly.She shrugs shoulders for drama then shakes, sideways black skullending her Oscar winning performance. “No plans, just reading…somestuff…from work.”

Preston’s grins, toothy with her immediatelyacceptance & launches, quickly. “I enjoy Joe’s Bar & Grillon Lakeshore. Have ya every been? They have American menu of beef,fish, salads, burgers. Would that place be okay, Pamela?”

Pamela thinks, intellectually & smiles,forever into Preston’s bluest of blue eyeballs. “Sounds Heavenly,Preston. Joe’s Bar & Grill on Lakeshore, around seven or so,does that time frame work around your schedule?”

Preston stands, soldierly with cell partiallyhanging in air between black dusted square jaw line and broad manlyshoulders. “Seven, that’s good for me, too, Pamela.”

She loves his deep baritone timber when hesays her name. Pamela claps, softly like silly school girl &confirms, swiftly while smiling. “Excellent, I’ll meet you in thelobby.” Pager blasts ear-piercing shrieks for attention. She holds,vertically object. “I’m being paged.”

“Sure, Pamela. Sure, get going…until thisevening.” Preston confirms, boldly & eye burns her. Pamelatwirls, elegantly as her cotton skirt swirls, outwardly from herlegs & strolls, dutifully back to her office. She glancesbehind her shoulder & smiles, sweetly then disappears, totallyinto elevator.

Preston pivots, soldierly & entersCafeteria marching to finish lunch pondering his