The beautiful daily life of Black Light Salted Fish

Forget it, wait until she wakes up.

After Miss Watson loaded a 200-round ammunition belt, she lay down on the back of the sofa and crossed her legs wrapped in ripped white silk. She stretched out her right leg and kicked a bullet away with her toes. The yellow-orange metal rotated in the air, and then landed steadily on the instep. The rounded thighs with graceful lines were slowly raised, and the series of joints were like mechanical gears. There was no tremor or deviation during the twisting, and the calf always maintained a horizontal line with the instep.

Until the knee joint was bent 90°, Ms. Watson slowly straightened her calf. The bullet was pulled by gravity and began to roll down the smooth surface of the stockings. Then it jumped up at the knee and lightly hit the flat belly. She looked at her toes, her eyes moving up from the hook scratched by her nails. The scene from a few hours ago reappeared. Michela gently caressed her ankles with both hands, then slowly rubbed her knees, and then pinched them up her thighs little by little.

Miss Butterfly Knife is really a pervert.

Actually...

But there is one thing to say, the toes wrapped in stockings have white, tender, delicate and moist skin, and they reflect a wonderful luster under the light. The shape of the foot is not distorted like that of ordinary people due to long-term wearing of various shoes. The shape of each knuckle grows very naturally. Combined with the muscles and ligaments shaped by the black light virus, it perfectly shows the shape of the foot. Stunning beauty. Even though Watson is not a football master, he finally begins to understand why those football masters in his previous life were so obsessed with it.

Judging from the appearance alone, it is actually not difficult to distinguish the legs of ordinary men and women. The former has larger feet, thicker knee bones, and more curved muscle lines, not to mention the toes. And if you look at the body, the obviously different shoulder width and waist-to-hip ratio between the two can always make people distinguish them; if you look further up, you can also look at places like the trapezius muscles.

Many men who are good at cross-dressing usually do not reveal their feet completely from the front. They can always cleverly combine shooting angles, clothing and image processing techniques to downplay the above flaws and instead highlight certain parts of themselves. Advantages, such as face, waist, buttocks or thighs. As for Watson himself, he has no such problem at all. Apart from his beautiful face, his upper body frame is not as wide as that of ordinary men. Overall, Watson's body proportions are more neutral.

Especially the two thighs, when Michela slowly spread them apart with her hands...

Boom!

Suddenly, Miss Watson punched her in the crotch.

"Are you going to dance again?"

After looking at it for two seconds, she punched her fist again and pulled the nurse's dress that was short to her thighs. Her face was full of hatred: "Is this the only terrible thing left in your mind? Can you think of something else?" ? Now, what I look down on the most in my life is disgusting things like you. You dance again? Are you disobedient? Then I will fight you to the end today!"

"Wo..."

At this moment, a voice came from behind the bedroom door. Miss Watson was ejected from the sofa into the air like a cat frightened by a cucumber. When she landed, she was already holding on to the back of the sofa. She turned half of her face and moved her ears until she heard a louder "Wo——!" from behind the door. Then she turned over the sofa and slowly walked over to open the door. Only half of her head was exposed: "Baby, call me." ?”

"I want to go to the toilet..."

Michaela lay on the bed and stretched out a hand in a daze.

"Uh... then go ahead. Is there any problem?" Miss Watson was a little confused.

"...I can't walk, please help me go."

The woman showed a lazy smile, touched the sheets in front of her with her right hand, and almost said, "Come here soon." Miss Watson twitched the corner of her mouth, stepped on the slippers beside the bed, and moved to the other end step by step. Sure enough, Michela hugged her, buried her face in her belly, and took a few deep breaths: "You hug me..."

"Then please take your hands off my butt first, thank you." Miss Watson picked up her girlfriend and walked quickly to the bathroom. But she didn't expect that as soon as she put Michelle on the toilet, she saw Miss Butterfly Knife's brows suddenly frowning, and she couldn't help but raise the corners of her mouth: "Huh, now you know it hurts? This is why you want me to wear women's clothes and still want to The consequences of provoking me, don’t you dare to scream next time!!!!”

Before she finished speaking, Michela bit Miss Watson on the wrist.

......

boom--!

Huge noise came from the sky, but it was not thunder, but a Brazilian Air Force fighter jet passing by from high altitude. Although the speed was deliberately slowed down, the sound of military engines still affected a small half of the city. It is now past 9 o'clock in the morning, the weather is rarely sunny, and tourists are already appearing on the streets one after another. Compared with these enthusiastic people, many vendors were yawning while trying to keep up their energy to sell and shout.

Watson held Michela in his arms while walking on the beach path. The beach at this point was still a bit empty, and the sea breeze blew gently and warmly on his skin, causing a faint tingling sensation like water waves.

He particularly liked these street scenes.

Unlike New York, the beaches of Rio de Janeiro in the late 90s, including cars, buses, traffic lights, radios, phone booths, billboards and architectural styles, all seemed to Watson full of an old-fashioned feel. As a person whose mental age is close to 30 years old, after the expectations and impulses for a new job, a new life, a new environment and new friends gradually fade away, he has indeed reached a stage where he can feel nostalgic.

I miss those days when I was squandering my youth every day, getting caught up in ideological entanglements that seem meaningless today, and I couldn't wait to get rid of everything around me and gain true freedom from control. But when I was a teenager, I would never have thought that one day in the future, I would be so envious of this moment.

As for now, Michela has been silent for several minutes.

Watson didn't urge him.

Leaving the Wolfpack is a major decision. After all, vacation and retirement cannot be confused. Even if Michela is willing to follow him, Watson is still worried about whether Michela can adapt to a peaceful life in the long term. But no matter what, Watson really didn't want it to happen again when Michela was almost shot to death in the Congolese jungle. Any situation may occur on the battlefield. Today it is a bullet, tomorrow it may be a mortar shell, and the day after tomorrow it may be a homemade explosive.

"...I can't think of what I should do away from the battlefield."

When we reached the next intersection, the woman finally spoke.

"Um...become a doctor?" Watson's tone was a little uncertain. He also knew his girlfriend's perverted habits. If he really wanted Miss Butterfly Knife to become a doctor, she would be laid off from being laid off after being complained by patients. It would be a good outcome. . Hearing the laughter in his ears, Watson shook his head helplessly and gave up the idea: "Okay, suppose... I mean suppose, if there is someone who can torture and torture people at will. Are you willing to try work?"

"What kind of casualness are you talking about?"

"Hydra."

After a few seconds of silence, Watson decided to release the heaviest weight. After hearing this word, the next second, the smile in the corners of Michela's eyes and mouth completely disappeared, replaced by the familiar coldness. The woman stared closely into her boyfriend's eyes to make sure there was no joking inside. She frowned slowly: "Hydra? Those bastards who killed my family, have you found them?"

"I have ways to find them, but I haven't done it yet."

Touching Miss Butterfly Knife's eyebrows, Watson sighed: "Compared to Hydra, of course I care more about you, especially your previous mentality of living one day at a time, short of actively seeking death, how could I possibly Do you still have any extra thoughts about Hydra? But your situation is much better now, so I can tell you this."

After a pause, he added: "Actually, I am planning to take revenge on Hydra. If you are willing to do it with me, that would be great. I also said just now, I don't want to lose you, do you understand? If It’s not necessary, I really don’t want you to step into the battlefield again, just thinking about countless bullets and shells falling around me, I can’t calm myself down.”

"Is this why you keep tossing me until I have difficulty walking?"

Michelle's brows were still frowning.

"Well...that's part of the reason."

Hearing his girlfriend's words, Watson himself was stunned for a moment. Can this be explained in this way?

"...Of course I can, but what will Luper and the others do?" Fortunately, Michelle's attention has not shifted yet. She lowered her head and thought for a few seconds, then raised her eyes again: "If it weren't for Luper, Perla pulled me into the team. There is no way I could have reached this point. If you and I left, the Wolfpack would lose a very important combat capability. You know what kind of person Luper is. She does not deserve this. situation. We can’t just wave our hands and walk away, at least not right away.”

"Of course I don't plan to leave right away."

The spider sense began to hurt, and Watson could only seize the time to finish the sentence: "Just take it slow, we have to find a suitable time, I mean, in fact, we don't have to leave the wolf team. This time we turn around Let me tell you more in detail. It’s better to avoid such whispers on the street. Maybe someone will..."

Snapped!

He gave the thief who was approaching behind him a gentle slap on the forehead.

"(Brazilian Portuguese) You want to steal my things? Are you looking for death? Damn boy!"

Before the other party could react, Watson cursed and pulled out the dagger, pressing it tightly against the man's neck. The curly-haired kid who stole something was so frightened that he didn't dare to say anything harsh. He took two steps back and ran away. Michela looked amused and turned her head to rest on her boyfriend's shoulder: "Did you just speak the local dialect? When did you learn it?"

"That's the secret."

Watson decisively chose to lie. The memory fragments of the slum drug dealers and members of the Blood Smear Gang did not contain many cultural vocabulary, but the techniques of bluffing and swearing were repeated one after another.

"Row."

Michela did not choose to ask, but took out a photo from her pocket: "I was thinking that we should take a few more photos."

The photo showed a traffic light on the sidewalk, the two of them hugging each other, and a bus happened to be parked behind them. The owner of this photography stall who used an instant camera had good sense. He happened to seize the moment and pressed the shutter while the sea breeze was fading. In the photo, Watson and Michela's hair is slightly dancing to one side, and the two smiling faces look so energetic.

"As long as you like it, how many more should we look for?"

Watson certainly didn't care: "But are you sure you can still walk?"

"Hehe..." Michela said no more. Most of her body weight hung on Watson's head, and she walked like a disabled person. When she went out before, Miss Butterfly Knife was still in a state of weak waist and weak legs, and her steps and movements were a little light. It wasn't until the two of them ate a few hot dogs at a street stall that Michela's strength gradually recovered.

Om-!

At this moment, the phone in his pocket vibrated.

"Ruper? What's going on?"

"Watson, can you and Michela go back to the hotel as soon as possible?" The French wife's voice was a little solemn: "There seems to be something wrong on Hobo's end."