.. Gretchen raised her head and nodded. "I don't quit. You're right, this isn't a disaster. I mean, it's not like one of us is pregnant or anything." ...ight," I laughed. "That would be a little much, all things..." A vision of that split condom on the bed in Vegas flashed through my mind. A moment's consideration and I dismissed the odds.My hesitation was short, but not short enough. Gretchen's eyes widened. "You don't think..."I cut her off with a wave of my hand. "No," I said firmly. "I don't. .." I can't think of one. Too many men have to told me to trust them, andI always end up hurt. Putting on these panties won't hurt you. Hell,they're soft. You might even like them." I wouldn't...", I began to reply defensively to her suggestion beforeshe cut me off."Fine, let's say you hate them. What does it really matter what kindof underwear you put on. No one sees them. I'm not telling you to goto work in a dress or anything. I just want you to wear somethingbeneath your clothes that's our. S and Captains. They enjoyed not only her feminine pleasures, but that she was not one to "kiss and tell." She told me long after we returned from Vietnam, and, even then, never disclosed their names.While we were in Germany I became the Battalion Technical Inspector. I had to check each truck, weekly, before it could be dispatched. We had a Lieutenant, a Master Sergeant, and me, an E-5 Sergeant. Somehow, we were issued a COLOR copier, and I used it to make copies of some of my pictures of. " She took a breath. "Bren? I love you, you know."It felt like all the air had been sucked out of my lungs. I got dizzy. I couldn't see anything except her eyes.Somehow I managed to say it. "I love you, too." Because I did. She beamed at me, and all I could feel was pure, unadulterated joy.Usually she was the one to initiate physical stuff. She usually kissed me first, stuff like that. Not this time. I took her in my arms, rocked her back onto my bed, and kissed her brains out. While.