“Bend over the couch.” Like he knew I wouldn’t do it right away, his voice got a little louder, more insistent. “Bend over. Stick your ass out... Let me see that sloppy pussy.”Holy shit. My own pussy clenched like it hadn’t done in a long, long time. Stupidly, I didn’t dare to touch it. I didn’t want to jinx it.“Mmmh, you’re dripping. How long have you been playing with yourself, babe? Hm? How many orgasms did you give yourself, huh?”None, none at all! I wanted to tell him. Not for lack of. "I'm not going to be your Santa bimbo," she had insisted.With pressure and Martin throwing a very juvenile hissy fit for a week,his wife had finally relented and performed the "Slut Santa" part hewanted her to do, as she would call it later. She had felt so humiliatedby doing it. She was tearing up when he pulled the beard around her faceand tightened it.Martin still felt that was different. She was a woman, wearing women'ssexy lingerie for her husband. She shouldn't have felt anything but. We were supposed to walk the rounds up and down the ravine as fast as we could load and fire. That many rounds, falling at the rate of one every 8-10 seconds, might fool the enemy into thinking that more than one mortar was firing at them. The captain hoped so, and I hoped that he was right.The enemy started shooting as soon as the first round landed. They couldn't see us, so I have no idea what they thought they were shooting at. Maybe they were just firing out of fright. Who knows? Maybe they. She is 5'9", 120 pounds, and 36-25-37 with flaming red hair and bright green eyes that melt your insides when you look into them.I lost my nice guy status just over three months ago when Candy, my brother Jim and I were at a party. Jim is a volunteer fireman and his beeper went off halfway through the party. He asked me to see that Candy got home ok and then he took off - his red and blue lights flashing. When the party broke up I helped Candy, who was feeling no pain, out to my car and propped.
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