. guilt. I was really concerned when I saw her eyes. They had a haunted, guilty, despairing look in them. They seemed to almost beg me for forgiveness... I didn't understand, but I knew she needed some comfort too. After I was done crying with my crew, I went over to where Megan was. She sat there, looking at me, a look of despair in her eyes. She seemed hesitant to approach me until I held out my arms to her. Immediately, she was in my arms, crying."I'm so sorry, Patrick! I'm sorry!" She. These thoughts got her very excited. The more depraved and vulgar she imagined his demands to be the more excited she got. She imagined herself on her knees as Tommy's huge cock was stuffed deep in her mouth. She pictured herself sucking that monster of manhood while Connie was under her, between her legs, eating her pussy like it was her last meal. She imagined herself on her hands and knees being pummeled doggy style by Tommy's thick cock pushed deep into her asshole, stretching her to her. I suspect it was in some boozed up writer’s head sitting in Tokyo or Hong Kong a nice safe distance from the battlefield.I could just picture the reaction in Britain, if the media had portrayed the “Battle of the Bulge” as the turning point of WWII. The “victorious German Wehrmacht in a stunning defeat of the bumbling Eisenhower and his cowboy puppet, Patton securing a victory for the Fatherland”.The countryside was a little quieter now. I kind of sensed it was a “lull before the storm”Quang. More sobs. I am about to reach behind me and give her clitty another tweak when I feel movement in the hairs on my lips. I look down and see the tip of a little pink tongue forced out between gritted teeth. I grin.“Open you eyes, honey. Look at me”Those big brown eyes stare up at me, shiny with tears.“Time to get going, girl”I twist my hand in her plait a little more, causing a little squeak, and the tongue comes out further and begins to move. The first touch with the skin of my lips is.