Maybe it's because I'm constantly aroused these days. Or maybe it's the strange, intimate talk we just had. Or maybe it's the sounds I heard coming fr...m my parents' room earlier. Whatever the cause, the feel of his hand over my arm, my hip, my neck makes me want to moan and beg him to keep going, to push aside the flimsy bathrobe, to pull up the hem of my T-shirt and caress my bare flesh.He probably thinks I'm asleep. He turned the TV down a little, and soon, too soon, he stops touching me. He. And if I started with that I knew that things would go much smoother. I pulled down his boxers and took his shaft into my hands and kissed the head, and then I stuck the 7 ½” shaft in my mouth as far as it would go and almost gagged, but I held back that reflex and began to suck his dick slowly, making it get harder and harder, licking and kissing it as well. Then I knew, by his moans, that he wanted the real thing, and I realized that so did I. I was getting more confident. “Undo your pants,”. I forget what they are now. It’s not important. These words though?that name. That's not my name. That is our dog’s name. Our mangy dog I rescued from death. I try to get up and fall and flail like a newborn. With a mothers’ concern does Emily hug my stomach, holding me solid as I trip and trail on the carpet. I look down where my hands should be. My trusty hands. People know their hands. They, to use a clich?, know them like the back of their hand. Hands do not change. Hands are not matted. "She added for effect, "And these aren't guns, these are rifles. Where the hell did you do your boot camp?!" Then she recited a variation of every drill sergeant's mantra. "'This is your rifle; this is your gun. This is for fighting; this is for fun.' Maybe you should just go read Battle Cry."Matthews stood at our rear watching the shocked officer and a gathering of snickering marines. He appeared quite pleased with his new acquisitions.Rachel took charge and turned to our assemblage. "Let's.