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“So how’s this work? We do some gun safety first?”

I snorted. “Probably should.”

“But I take it you’re too gangster for that.”

I grunted and took my Glock from my waistband. It was a 9mm semiautomatic with a custom grip. I kept it in perfect working condition because I knew I needed to ready at a moment’s notice. She stared at the gun as it sat there in front of her on the metal shelf.

“Pick it up.”

She hesitated. “Is it loaded?”

“Assume any gun you see is loaded.”

She nodded and hefted it into her hand. The grip was a little too big for her, but not too bad. She immediately put her finger on the trigger. I stepped in behind her, pressing my body close to hers, and helped adjust her stand, her grips, and positioned her finger on the side of the trigger guard.

“This feels awkward,” she said, moving her feet.

“Trust me. Stand like this. You need a solid base so that the recoil doesn’t fuck your aim up too bad.”

“I don’t see you take a solid base. Heck, nobody does.”

“We do, you just don’t notice because you’re too busy freaking out. At least, the guys that survive do.”

She snorted but let me adjust her to my liking, which was fun for me. I got a little liberal with my hands as I moved her legs, her thighs, and at one point gripped her ass, just for my own pleasure. She glared at me, but she didn’t complain.

“When di I get to shoot?”

“Soon.” I stepped ack and admired her. Nothing sexier than a hot girl with a gun. “Okay, here’s your safety lesson. Assume all guns are loaded at all times. Which means whenever you have a gun in your hand, that gun can kill someone.”

“Got it.”

“Never, ever aim your gun at another human being unless you intend on killing them. Do you understand?”

“Sure, makes sense.”

“That means accidentally as well. Always pay attention to where your barrel is aimed. If you’re not sure and you don’t want to think about it at all times, aim it down at the ground , angled forward slightly so you don’t shoot your foot off.”

“Okay, fine.”

“The majority of guns don’t have safeties, unlike the movies, so that’s not a thing. Triggers are harder to pull than you realize. Most guns won’t go off if you stick them in your pocket. You need a fair amount of force to get it going.”

“Why do movies and TVs always have safeties on and stuff then?”

“I don’t know. It’s a cliché I guess.” I stepped up behind her again and raised her arms up. “Sight down it like this. Keep your target in focus and let that small notch line up with these two notches. When they’re aligned, take a deep breath, and as you exhale, squeeze.”

“And it’ll shoot?”

“No, it won’t.” I took the gun from her and removed a magazine from my pocket. “First, you have to load it.”

I showed her how, showed her how to take the bullets out, how to make sure the barrel was clear. Once we went over that twice and she did it herself, making sure to keep the barrel down range at all times, I let her hold a loaded weapon.

“It’s surprisingly heavy.”

“Right? Feels good in the hand.”

She chewed her lip and got into her stance. “Should I shoot?”

“After I put the hearing things on, you can go wild. Sound good?”

She nodded. I put the hearing protecting over her head then put on my own. She glanced back at me and I gestured at the target. It was about twenty feet away, so not too far but not too close. She took a deep breath and squeezed.

The gun popped and recoiled. She let out a surprised yelp but managed to get it under control. She kept the barrel aimed straight down the range. I squinted and tried to see if she hit the target, but couldn’t make it out.

She stared at me with a strange expression somewhere before terror and excitement. I gestured again and she started firing. One round after the next, bang, bang, bang. I caught the metal where I could but mostly let it pile up on the floor. I’d sweep it when we were done.

She squeezed off the full magazine. I gave her another and walked over to a bend to reload the first while she went nuts. She was laughing when I finished and came back over, the second magazine spend, steam rising from the gun’s barrel.

I took it from her hand, made sure it wasn’t loaded, and took off my hearing protection.

She removed hers and grinned at me.

“What do you think?”

“I think that was amazing.” She laughed and shook her head. “Holy shit. That felt so good.”

“You liked it, huh?”

“Seriously, Owain. I’m against guns, I think they’re stupid and dangerous and the only reason you’d ever own one is to kill someone. But holy shit that felt good.”

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