She pulled my face down to meet her hungry, open-mouthed kiss. Our mouths were both dry and sticky from gasping and panting, but felt wonderful to hav... our tongues dueling together. Samantha's enthusiastic examination of my mouth was proving more dangerous to my self control that sliding back and forth in her pussy was. Furthermore, having to breathe through my nose while we kissed was making me dizzy. Having her perky tits rubbing against my chest didn't help matters either. I had to break the. Then, she heard a twig snap behind her. Her chest exploded but froze at the same time, she wasnt even able to breathe. Her irish green eyes darted around the darkness that her vision still hadnt adjusted to. Rosey took one step forward, and then felt a hand larger than her neck take a hold of her hair, and throw her to the ground. Rosey let out a blood curling scream when she landed near blood covered boots, and looked up to see a tattered apron, stained with her friends insides. Sticks, mud. We fucked all that night, we didn’t care about wet sheets or slippery floors. We sucked, licked, and fucked each other until the sun rose and we fell asleep on the bed curled up against each other. I spent the entire summer with them, but in September I realized I had to move on with my life. My self imposed exile was over and I had to get back to reality. After a tearful goodbye, I took the bus to Malaga and the last thing I saw when I looked out the window was Julia and Maria holding hands. A patriot who is hellbent on volunteering her unwilling husband for an undercover assignmentfor Homeland Security (HLS). He exits the training pipeline as a largebreasted, modern day femme fatale, the first T-girl Mata Hari.Our hero allows his wife and the government to so manipulate him. He endsup questioning his very sexuality. Not a sequel, more of a parallel yarninvolving the same characters as my first story, The Kiss.Chapter 1. In the Beginning"For the love of one's country is a terrible.