Masterbution Video
I split my attention between reading my book and rubbing her feet. From time to time, my free hand found its way under her dress and up her legs. I could get away with it if I didn’t linger too long or go past her knees. If I lingered, or moved too far, she would swat my hand with her paperback. My protestations of just being a “Good Boyfriend,” fell on unappreciative ears.My knuckles stinging from my most recent failed exploration, I consoled myself by massaging her feet. I looked down, “Sweetheart, I’m not into feet, but I would make an exception for yours.”She looked up from her book, “What are you talking about?”I sat my phone down and picked her left foot up with both hands. “There are guys who prefer a woman’s feet over anything else.”Interested, she marked the page and closed her book. “I’ve never heard about that.”“Doesn’t your posse know everything?” Since we started bundling, Rebecca had displayed a surprising amount of theoretical sexual knowledge. I teased her about it. Against orders I sent my platoon forward. We were all sick of taking casualties from these incursions which the Syrians always blamed on insurgents despite the number of bodies we brought back wearing Syrian Army uniforms. We got no help from the limp-dicks at our own State Department. Seems like the closest that any of those idiots ever got to a fire fight was on their X-Box.Corporal Kidd was a terrific guy and everyone thought highly of him. He was a dedicated family man with a wife and child at home in London Kentucky. He was also our de facto chaplain. Believers or not, every man in the platoon stopped and gathered around when Kidd took off his helmet and dropped to his knees on the rocky soil and asked God to watch over us.I watched the Syrians from the slight elevation above their encampment, which was in a small desolate valley. I didn't need my night vision goggles. Electricity for the camp was provided by a noisy diesel generator and large and well-lighted tents were neatly.
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