I clear my throat and ask, “Are you planning on getting dressed anytime this century?”Jens asks, “How in the heck did you get dressed before I d...d?”I taunt, “Many years of practice.”Jens makes the mistake of asking, “What, you’re not that much older than I am?”I grin at her and drop the hammer, “No, but when you have to get dressed before the husband comes home, you learn some shortcuts.”Jens glares at me but then laughs, “Ben I know better than that. I know for a fact you never dated a married. I just recall us stopping where you told me to stop and this guy popping up in a few minutes. What I never will forget was the shot that took his life. ‘I wasn’t one helluva lot of help to you at first. I know. I panicked. Somehow, even in the military, the discussion of suddenly being splattered with a man’s brains doesn’t receive the amount of attention it should. God, I was a basket case. ‘Once again though, one thing came through loud and clear, ‘sweet cheeks’ or whatever, you treated me. Within a couple minutes I was completely hard. "Oh my God," she exclaimed, "I can feel the bulge of the sound as I stroke you!" I could also feel the difference when her fingers were over the area where the metal was inserted and it was pretty hot to have that constant reminder of what was happening.She soon had the length of the sound buried within me. There was a flat end at the top that ensured the sound wouldn't accidentally slip completely into my shaft and allowed the doctor to grip it. I. I alsowanted to know what happened. Why didn't -- or couldn't -- she finish it? I was a man on a mission. There were some obvious clues in the writing thatyou didn't need to be Perry Mason to see. The first of which was the name ofthe high school whose mascot they stole. I also knew that one of them was namedWendy. So I went to the library. (Didn't the female guard say it was in thenewspaper?) It wasn't that hard to find in the microfilmed newspaper files.(We may not have "The New York Times,".