Jazzer came out of the bedroom, a mixture of sheepishness, stubbornness and fear on his young face. I indicated for him to sit down, and then I talked...to him like a Dutch uncle. I pointed out Greta's occupation of whore; I pointed out the disparity of their ages. I pointed out that if he didn't return with me voluntarily I would lamp him and drag him back to barracks, where he would spend the rest of the year in the cells, before being court martialled.Jazzer wasn't stupid, and seeing Greta in. When I see that he's with me, I ease my hands down over both ass cheeks and continue the circular massage. I don't know which woman lets out the low moaning sound; it could be coming from either. Or both. What fun. I'm taking my time now, enjoying the hell out of the moment.My hands gradually increase the size of the circular motions, thumbs dipping into the crack in between the lovely globes in front of me. My palms slide down to push up from the top of her leg, separating the cheeks on each. More

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