Some were taken over by the Rifle Companies as billets, seizing any comforts left behind. Like ourselves, the Riflemen have few tasks to perform excep... watching soldiers of the British Army watch them.But, we and the British get on okay. I can’t say we are the firmest of friends, but that can be put down to the language difficulty. Even we who can speak English have a problem with their accents. Apparently, many of the British come from Scotland and speak in dialects.Our squadron are all. My mind began to wonder back to Charlie and those perfect little erect nipples I had seen earlier. What was I doing, she’s my girlfriends sister. I couldn’t help but think about fucking her, making her beg for me, making her grab my arm as I finger her little pussy whilst she quivers and shakes. I sat forward took a breath, I had to stop this. I had to keep myself busy. I got up off the sofa turned the TV off and headed upstairs to get showered. As I was walking upstairs I heard Charlie moving. He had caught me. I would be punished. I deserve it.So I stand there, head bowed in deference.But then he says, “Take off your clothes.”I look up to see him standing in front of me, one eyebrow raised. I don’t have the right to question him, so I quickly shed my clothes, fold them, and set them aside neatly.Alain undresses with less care, tossing his clothes onto the floor haphazardly.I don’t dare question him and just wait for the next instruction.He puts his hands on my shoulders and walks me. It was Remembrance Sunday the next day, and a couple of people from the Royal British Legion came round the bar to sell poppies - of course we all bought one, and I think the Haig Fund did very well out of their visit. There was certainly a good steady clink of coins dropping into their collecting tin. We didn't begrudge the fact that we had already bought poppies in Cardiff - it was an extremely worthwhile cause, and we were happy to give twice.Over lunch, the twins mentioned that they had.