He’s my friend, had my back a few times over the years. I want him to survive, I really do. And from what I saw, when I watched him go into that kit...hen the other day, he’s not doin’ too good, not too good at all.”“Well, all we can do is the best we can do. The man does have to do some of the heavy lifting himself; it can’t all be just us doin’ it,” said Henry.“You’re right. But the women, they got us guys by the short hairs and there’s not a damn thing we can do about it,” said Sammy.“I hear. There she was, Natalie, right in front of me on my desk. Legs spread and glistering from her juices. And I was having her, making sure I had my dick nice and deep with every thrust. I could see and hear her pussy getting wetter as the wonderful sound of sex echoed in my office. I could smell her scent from where I was standing, really enjoying of what was happening. I picked up the pace, moving fast as her moans got louder. My cock was so damn hard, sliding in perfectly to make sure she was. I mean, I wasn’t going to…’ ‘Damn right you weren’t.’ I shot back, my voice shaking a little. We definitely weren’t. Were we? No, Jesus Christ. Never. I’m married. ‘Linds, I’m sorry. I didn’t think- I mean, I thought you… I didn’t mean to bother you like that.’ He thought I didn’t WANT him to touch me. I should have left it at that, but it didn’t seem fair. I sighed. ‘Actually, it wouldn’t have bothered me one bit, if it wasn’t for Erik.’ His eyes lit up, and the smile crept back onto his. All had heard about the female special forces member, of course, and a few had even met her before, but this was the first time they'd ever seen her out in the field, packing a weapon and lugging a huge equipment bag.Lisa noticed their perusal. "Yeah, I got tits and a pussy all right," she said sweetly. "Don't I guys?" Yep," Jefferson said. "I've seen 'em." She is definitely not a boy," Horishito agreed.Lon simply smiled, amused at the discomfort Lisa was causing the mortar team. "Anyway," he.
Read MoreThose two features made me wet, no, make that soaking wet.The day after Christmas, a few lunches later, a few months later – damn, call me a slow-po
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