The stairs and hallwaywalls were crammed with pictures and paintings; almost every one with amilitary theme; either Father at some point in his meteor...c career orsome glorious disaster in his regiment's rich history."The regiment's everything, Peter." If I'd had a pound for every timehe'd said that to me I wouldn't have had to have to turn eighteen tocome into my own money and do this.There were paintings of Thin Red Lines at Waterloo and Lucknow, khakiclad, red-faced men at Spion Kop, burdened. As her hand slowly slipped out from underneath her panties, she shrugged her shirt off, letting it fall to the floor, keeping one hand over her breasts. I yearned to see all of her, to see her small pink nipples, to see the swell of her breasts falling naturally over her, wondered what those breasts would look like while she was lying underneath me. Turning away from me again, she moved her hands away, back down to her hips, achingly censoring the soft parts of her body I craved to see most.. More

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