." Eight actually," he said waving to stop me. Then he paused and looked thoughtful. "Or maybe it was seven and it just seemed longer. No, it was eigh... but that's close enough. Good to finally meet you, Captain." He had the short, clipped tones of a British officer but was American clear to the bone. It wasn't unusual for someone who spent that much time over in the sandbox. I'd met a number of fellow officers who'd adopted their British comrades' mannerisms and speech patters; it was hard not. "Rub that dripping cunt for me Needs, give that clit a little more finger. rub it for me. That's right Needs. tell me how wet it is for me". I read as his posts went from acting out this sexual play with light touches across my shivering naked body to deep penatrating finger fucks to him telling me how to masterbate? But it was the precision in where he wanted me to touch. It was the depth he wanted my fingers to plunge. And the way he told me to lick at my fingers between the choreographed. More

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