She’s pretty, with light brown hair that’s more blonde at the ends. Her eyes are cornflower blue, wide in her little elven-featured face. She’s ...ncredibly short, barely five feet or so. I’m almost five seven so when her footsteps carry her toward the empty lab stool beside me, I’m nearly taller than her while sitting down. ‘Hi,’ she says. Soft-spoken but not shy, she meets my eyes without hesitation. ‘Is this seat taken?’ It’s not, working with others isn’t my strong suit and I’ve made it. " I cried while sitting in his car upon hearing my x's voicemail. "you okay?" Devin asked looking at me and handing a tissue. "yeah, i think so.. " i said sniffling a little "i'm sorry, im all crying like this and crap ." i smiled partly trying to brighten up the mood"it's okay." he replied, "tell me what on ur mind" and in that insistnacy i spilled out everything to himand he spilled everything to me about his past battles with something just as similar. and in that small moment, we felt each. I untied my long hair that was usually in a topknot and brushed it, then I tied it in a side ponytail, making me look extra girly. I looked just like a girl, which made me excited and horny. I quickly put all mom's makeup away and put her bag back under the sink. I took a few pictures, taking sexy poses.I decided that I couldn’t hold back any longer, I sneaked back to my room and locked it behind me. I lay back on my bed and hiked up the skirt, I struggled to free my cock from its pink, cotton. That wasn’t too surprising, since the U.S. Army advisers had set up the Peshmerga 1st Artillery Battalion like the way they knew. There were three firing batteries and a headquarters ‘battery’, which didn’t have any 105s but was the HQ and command center. It was an awful lot like what I remembered from the dim and dusky memories of my misspent youth.The Peshmerga might be a small army, but they were also a professional army. This was not a bunch of ragtag Arabs in whatever clothing they could.