She took a last trip to the outhouse and started to strip when she came back. George went out when she returned. When he came back, he zipped up the d...or to the tent. Then he moved the cots back apart and turned them on their sides. The sleeping bags spilled to the space between the cots. George sat down to take off his boots.“Why did you do that?” she asked. He made a shushing motion with his fingers to his lips. Stripped, he took his pajamas into the sleeping bag with him. She got into her. It worked like a charm. Lissa and I just smiled at each other and let all the day’s cares and worries slip away. Then we started to dance.We began with a couple of easy lobs to each other. We didn’t even bother to enter the service area, just started the ball flying. We kept it slow and easy while we adjusted to each other, just letting the ball connect us. We didn’t really need any music to set the pace. In a minute we were back in the zone we’d found in Minneapolis. And like all zones, time. His letters were short and choppy, mostly asking questions and saying he loved her and would be home soon.What little she knew about what he was doing came in the form of news stories from the Camp Pendleton Scout, when occasionally his name would be mentioned and the reporter told about a night attack or the blowing up of a bridge deep in enemy territory.The Vietnamese medal had come first. The commanding officer of the reconnaissance company from the camp had sent her a letter with a copy of. "Now step forward, and put your arms around Gayle." Hedid so, his now rigid cock nestling into place between her soft roundedbuttocks. He looked over her shoulder."Now reach up, and hold Gayle's breasts, one in each hand. Feel the shape,the smoothness, the firmness. Lift up, and feel the weight. Try and imaginethat they are yours. Fondle them." Gayle had a blissful expression on herface, and every time he squeezed, she clenched her buttocks, agitating himfurther. A small bead of sticky liquid.
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