Sure, I know it's a great feeling to be with a group of men whofight for each other, who learn to respect and love each other throughdays of marching ...nd camping and fighting. It's a kind of glory, in a way.And if you win, that feels great, too, since you're on top. But look atMoranna: she's on top here. Would you call that glory?" Of course not. She's a wicked beast!" Don't you think the people you fought might have felt the same way aboutyou?"That brought me up short. I had no answer for a. I straddled his hips with his dick behind me. The shaft slid through the deep gap of my ass cheeks and threaded under the band of my thong. I grappled his neck, and we kissed deeply. His hands went straight for my bra clasp, but I was in no mood to slow him down. I was on fire and eagerly bounced my hips against his pelvis, massaging his dick with my ass cleavage. He sighed contentedly as my bra came free, my arms stretching skyward to shake the garmet away. I leaned my hands against wall above. My wife is one of the many women who cannot be on the pill and she hates condoms almost as much as I do. She keeps track of her monthly cycle on a small calendar that hangs in our kitchen so she always knows when she is fertile and when she is safe. With a groan of frustration Jan got up went into the kitchen. She looked at her calendar and after a moment said, "Well, at least I am safe if something does happen."I took that to be a "Yes" and hugged her tightly. She told me that she wasn't sure. I took the plans into our washroom and saw that the layouts were the same except reversed. We had four urinals on one side, then four stalls opposite a long counter with two sinks and storage. Our warehouse last stall was directly beside the women's washroom’s last stall! The office side had another small washroom for the men too. But the large washroom accommodated the many women working in the office with seven stalls and several sinks. My idea was simple, instead of going into our washroom.