I wondered if I was losing weight from so much sex. Was that possible? I sure as heck was feeling my age. I knew sex was out for the rest of the day. ... needed to recharge, maybe with an afternoon nap on the couch.“Go wake Rachael up for breakfast,” Cara ordered me.I stood slowly and headed to the bedroom.Rachael was sleeping on her front, on top of the covers, sun streaming across her naked body, one knee cocked. She was so cute, so young.When I walked around the bed to wake her up, I saw. The next morning Ava woke from a restless night. Her dreams were haunted my Mendoza, frantic and passionate. Ava shivered with the cold, and the soft cold light filtered into the cabin. Her stomach dropped, memories of what she had done last night flooded back, her cheeks scarlet with shame. Blaming it on Mendoza, Ava tried to reason with herself. Ava quickly dressed, this time in her riding pants, her corset and camisole, one of Mendoza’s shirts and a heavy woollen coat. The cut on her head. Angel of Mercy, Flight One — a name a drunken pilot had jokingly bestowed on her chopper, was proudly claimed by the pilots that carried her into the carnage. Her flights became legend, the type of stuff that kicked many a wounded man’s morale up, knowing that if he was hurt bad enough, that she’d pick him up and bring him home alive. She got what she wanted. And what she wanted was the worst of the wounded. The nearly dead and the dying. Her whole world became defined by the magnesium alloy. “Put one up my ass, darling!”Several more white splats of paint appeared on her rump but nothing got between her legs. “This thing is really hard to aim,” Frank complained.“That’s okay,” Tanya assured him. “I’m enjoying it…”After several more shots, she gave up and rolled over, spreading her legs.“My pussy’s a little bigger target,” she suggested. “Take a step closer and try again.”After five more shots, the BB pistol was empty and Tanya was furiously masturbating, smearing white paint all over.