[OTA] Distractions
Rob cocked the pistol and aimed it at the target far off in the distance. It had been pure luck that he arrived on the island almost simultaneous to the other dude who used to manage the shooting range being sucked back home. Rob more than knew his way around firearms and ammunition. He could kill two birds with one stone working here. Or three, rather. He could do something he actually knew how to do probably with more familiarity than wiping his own ass, he could stop himself going stir-crazy being away from the front line, and he could take his mind off the the strange and almost-predatory circling he had been doing with Fox since they crossed paths at the pool.
There was also the added factor that his ass hurt. It was the day after the tattoo and while it hadn't hurt much at the time (probably on account as he was post-orgasmic and really wasn't feeling any pain by that point), but goddamnit it stung like a bitch now. Meaning, there was no sitting to be done. Standing only. Standing and shooting. The shots accurately took out the cardboard cutout's eyes, nose, mouth, heart, and the the pinpoint middle of the head in rapid succession and then he flicked out the magazine with his thumb to reload. It wasn't sexual frustration. Not at all.
There was also the added factor that his ass hurt. It was the day after the tattoo and while it hadn't hurt much at the time (probably on account as he was post-orgasmic and really wasn't feeling any pain by that point), but goddamnit it stung like a bitch now. Meaning, there was no sitting to be done. Standing only. Standing and shooting. The shots accurately took out the cardboard cutout's eyes, nose, mouth, heart, and the the pinpoint middle of the head in rapid succession and then he flicked out the magazine with his thumb to reload. It wasn't sexual frustration. Not at all.