I'm Rob Goodall and this is my mate, Steve Jones. We live here."David said, "I am David Lewis and this is my wife, Roberta. We are from North America ...xploring." Crikey. You're a pretty bird, Roberta. We'll save you for some fun."I said, "Rob, you aren't man enough for me and you won't 'save' me for anything."David said, "I'm guessing that you don't plan to be friendly." He paused. "You might notice that I'm out of the line of fire from the machine gun on the Humvee. You have a choice. You can. We start kissing again and I asked her to come over me. She came over me and guided my penis to her pussy and sat on my penis. With his fluid my penis goes smoothly inside her. I start stroking by holding her waist. She was enjoying every moment as I increased speed she was bouncing over me. Her boobs were shaking and she was holding her boobs and was licking them. Then she bent down and starts feeding me. I was servicing her from bottom puch puch was the sound she was moaning aaaaaaahhhh. ”“You like being my bitch, don’t you? Maybe I should put you in drag, too! You’ve always struck me as rather effeminate, if you ask me, unlike your brother here, though both of you are delectable,” Eva admitted.“I would agree with that, too. That’s always been my impression,” Megan interjected, making Gaston shrug.“When Gaston and I fuck, we sometimes dress him up all pretty and have him be a woman instead of a man,” Gustave stroked his mustache.“I knew it! I bloody well knew it!” Megan giggled. And I thought little of the relative brevity of her writing; had she typed them, I supposed, they might have been longer. After a couple of weeks I received a letter from Ronnie. It was funny and informative, and she was gushing over the guy from NYU. The rest of it was so sexually revealing that I simply had no choice but to get rid of it -- had my folks found that letter, there would have been a nuclear holocaust.Between September and Thanksgiving I wrote several long, plaintive letters.