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While most of the rest of the crew borrowed folding metal chairs from the cook tent, John brought a couch.After a few, Steve scratched on my tipi. "Hairy, are you up?" Yup. Come on in, Steve."Steve is very tall so he backed in the door and began his inquiry conversation as he turned around. "Have you seen Sim ... on ... eerrr ah. OK. Simone? Hairy? What's going on?"Barb immediately entered, all protective like. "Sim, honey. What did he do to you?" Barb. Settle down! He hasn't done anything I didn't ask for. Well, to be honest, he wouldn't do some of the things I asked him to do. But he didn't do anything I didn't like ... and I liked it a lot!"Since we were both nude, sitting on the buffalo robe, Simone glowing with happiness, and me hovering protectively, Barb backed off."Are you going to explain or just leave us hanging?" asked Steve."Have a seat, you two, be careful of the wet spot." I suggested, as Simone and I slid over. My buffalo robe is a huge bull hide, nine feet wide and 12. "I would never want you to be upset with me." Gabe," I whispered, taking his hands in mine and looking into his brown eyes."Yes, Sabrina? Do you forgive me?" No." You don't?" he sobbed slightly.I delivered a single kiss to his cheek and brought my head back. "Is a blow job what you sincerely want from me?" I guess," he cried, shedding a couple more tears."Then you shouldn't feel ashamed, Gabe. I had to yank it out, but you still told me. I surely would never want you to feel guilty for wanting something like that from me. You can't control your feelings, so I'll give you a blow job." Seriously?" he asked, grinning."Yes," I replied, gently rubbing his crotch.He shimmered around somewhat and closed his eyes. Even as the summer sun was still beating down on us, I knew he was sweating heavily because of me."When can we do it?" It is your birthday present, so I'll let you decide." Tomorrow night, my dad is going out with Bill for his bachelor party."I brought my lips within a couple of.
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Makena had been on the flight line, as usual, late one afternoon with her yellow wagon, when he had come back from a routine resupply mission to Kenyan troops in Somalia. One of the newly arrived pilots was ready for a familiarization flight of the local area, so on a whim, he had pointed to Makena and told her to get aboard. Her expression went from shock, to happiness, to serious in the space of a couple of heartbeats. His crew chief smiled broadly as he strapped her into one of the canvas-covered seats in the cabin and got her fitted with a headset. For the next thirty minutes every time he looked over his shoulder he saw an ear to ear smile.The photographer captured her in her neatly pressed camouflaged uniform, her straight dark hair much shorter than now, and Jonas in a sweat-stained khaki flight suit, his close-cropped hair matted from being under a flight helmet all day. Her yellow wagon was next to them, and both held a large red plastic glass. The photo caught them grinning.

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