Wrangler was now wearing a pair of black boxer shorts and a tight blue singlet that hugged her well endowed chest. Androgyny personified was my mental...description of her as she carried a couple of beers in and flopped onto a lounge chair opposite me and spread her muscular legs. I poured another wine with a shaking hand as I felt my clitty try to harden between my legs. Lust was in the air. I gulped some wine and raced into the bathroom to fix touch up my make up and have little tinkle on the. I wasnow alone with Dad. Dad was in the army. He was a Master Sergeant andworked at the nearby base, the training center they called it. I'd seenhim a few times at work while Mom and I were in the base. Mom said Dad wasa drill sergeant. Because he was 'drill' he was un-human with others. Idreaded my Dad. He couldn't be different at home than at work. Or couldhe? I was avoiding him. He was what I was afraid of becoming, not that Dadwas bad to me. Or Mom. But he was different.One morning I was. More

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