Louis drank deeply from his glass, then turned away.The soldier dropped to the bed and straddled her, crushing her into the mattress. He rocked up and...down, grinding his body against hers, crushing her breasts against his chest. "Oh, God, oh, God, Louis, the hair on his chest makes my nipples burn! Oh, the hair on his belly inflames me so! And his-- on my-- Oh, my God, Louis, he presses himself so tightly to my-- Oh, Louis, my puss is so wet! Oh, God, my puss is so wet, so open, so hot, so hot!. We gave him a hard time when he returned because he took forever in there, ruining the chance for anyone to go after him because it was getting close to the time my parents got home.The next time, the same guy said he was going to the bathroom and me and the other guy said "No way" and began to argue to see who was going in first until one of them said "Why don't we do it here? It's even hotter if we do it watching the movie". Me and my other friend looked at each other and figures "Why not?",. Having the consortium move the stockade and structures from Tobago had been a help on one hand and a disappointment on the other. While the consortium could move stuff around in a blink of the eye, they could not dig foundations or post holes or put things back the way they had been on Tobago. We received the stockade as requested but it wasn't standing. Instead it arrived in a huge heap of pointed logs along with everything that had been used to assemble it. The same went for any of the major. And, the conversation might have made any unsuspecting guest blush a little bit. The guys asked me if I liked being Spit Roasted. Who did they think they were asking? Of course, I liked being Spit Roasted!Right there, in the elevator, they had a scissors/paper/rock to decide who got first go on my arse. It felt like my arse was being auctioned off.Imagine if you were in an elevator with three guys, all shirtless, towels not really hiding their bulging crotches, listening to them decide who got.