And now Riley is dying – this big 40-year-old man gutshot and I’m just a kid. It could have been me but it’s not and I don’t want to be gutsho... either. Through and through in the upper arm maybe . . . a no-boner in the fleshy part of the thigh . . . perhaps a little side-shot – like a modern version of a Heidelberg saber scar. All honorable service. Riley won’t get a medal for this. We’re not fucking green berets with purple hearts flowing out of our asses. This is a hard army. You don’t get. The morning of what she confidently, and as it turned out, correctly, expected to be her last hunt dawned bright and clear, as did almost any day in Kobekistan when there wasn't a sandstorm. Promptly at ten o'clock, dressed in her camouflage suit, she was released at the meeting point, and before the helicopter left the ground she was off along the path and over the ford and running as fast as she could between the woods and the first of the low hills. After ten minutes and a good mile and a. How about you? Just a minute. Let me order the wine." No wine for me tonight, Ben." Really? Do I have to drink alone?" I guess so." What's the deal, Dimples?" he asked."That's why I asked you to dinner. It's a kind of celebration."The waiter came over with Ben's drink and took their dinner order." As you were saying, Dimples. Something about a celebration." I'm pregnant, Ben." Wow, finally. That's great! When are you due?" The middle of November."Ben was silent doing some quick arithmetic. "Let. I stuck my ass up and touched my tits to the floor. It was difficult, but pilates class had helped keep me limber. “Yes, Master! Thank you for the reminder of my place!”“Jab your thumb up your ass and lick his shoe,” Justin ordered me to lick my husband’s boat shoes. “That isn’t necessary, Justin!” Stefan said.“It is very necessary. You can’t order mom around. It will interfere with her training, but she won’t disrespect you, and if she does, then she needs to show proper atonement, is that.
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