"Might want to put your fingers in your ears," he said to Tim, whose eyes were wide open, along with his mouth.Tim hit the snow hard and put his arms ...ver his head. Mitch stood, with his fingers in his ears, watching the smoke from the burning fuse rise slowly into the air. There was a bright light and then the concussion hit him, making his clothing flutter. A ball of dirty gray smoke hovered over the ice and then the slight breeze began dispersing it.Tim uncovered his head and peered at the. It was a duet with him in a deep baritone voice. Her a soprano. It rang out with mutual gratification like in an aria from Verdi's Aida. Maybe, she reasoned, size isn't the only thing that matters.A man from England had a wonderful London accent. He said "My dear wench, I could shag you until my John Thomas falls off." It wasn't hard for her to guess what that meant. His piston-like movements slipped in and out of her like on a slide trombone. In the end, as he blasted into her, he sounded more. More

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