I was surprised to see her so provocatively dressed. “What are we drinking?” she asked. Holy Mother of God, she looked good and she smelled good a... well. “Oh wow!” I remarked. “I feel under dressed.” She put her hand on my thigh and squeezed. “You’re fine,” she replied. “Fortunately, I like men in uniform.” I had to laugh. I ordered two mixed cocktails. “Do you want to sit on the veranda?” I asked. “No,” she replied, “This is fine.” We spent the next half hour talking about the Battalion. Nothing happened again for a few nights, to my great disappointment and then around 1230 the fourth night, I felt her hand on my dick again, this time my dick was outside the opening in my boxers, since I had stopped wearing my Pajamas. Her hand was moving up and down, my hips had started moving in rhythm to her hand and I started spurting large globs of my hot spunk on her hand and up my belly and chest, all in less than a minute from the time I woke up. I wasn't sure if she was sleeping or. More

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