The last one he sent head first down the shithole out back cause he had his feet propped up on the Gunnies desk. At this rate we ain't never gonna get...the monthly count out to HQ. Guess I'll have to call and see if they have someone else they can send over before word gets out about this one."I was jolted out of my daydreaming when the Captains door opened. To my surprise it was a Marine, and he was white as a sheet as he almost ran out the front door. As I got up I noticed the clerk had a. " I can see where your pussy is making your panties wet", said Tom, softly. "A little wet patch right underneath, right here." Tom didn't touch her but she could sense his finger was close. "Is that where you wanted my face? Did you think I would want to smell your cunt through your panties?" Yes," said Jessica, "Yes, I did." Did you imagine me pulling your panties down over your arse, down to your knees, unable to help myself?" Yes, that's what I thought you'd do." Because then I would have to. With her legs spread apart, her juices started running freely down her thighs. Master’s forefinger reached out and ran through her slit, partially entering her tight wet hole, his thumb pressing down her clit. She whimpered and moved her hips, humping Master’s finger. He stopped and took his finger out and smiled and said, “Look at this, a dripping cunt. Now turn around and kneel in front of me bitch.” He held his finger out to her face, smearing her lips with her own cunt juices, “Lick my. It was in many ways a sight familiar to a funeral director, the slouch of the shoulders, and head dangling from a neck too limp with grief to hold it straight. Perhaps it was those sagging shoulders, but those suits never did really look as sharp and proper as they were meant to at these events. Made one puzzle, what was the point in getting dressed in ones most expensive clothes for a gathering where sadness prevents anything you could possibly wear from looking good, and the guest of honor.