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I slid my tongue into her mouth as my other hand slid down her skirt until I felt the fabric end. I slipped my hand between her legs and grasped a thigh before sliding my hand upward. Debbie spread her feet apart as she kissed me back. With the extra room her shifting granted me, I slid my hand up higher. I guess Debbie wears actual stockings because I felt the softest skin as my hand moved heavenward. I stopped there and savored the feeling, rubbing and kneading her flesh which caused a moan to escape Debbie’s lips. Debbie stepped back from me and grabbed me by the hand and led me towards the boss’ office. I watched her shapely ass sway as I followed her. God I wanted to throw her down and fuck her but I knew if I waited it would be worth the wait. She turned towards me and slowly started unbuttoning her blouse. She was wearing a motherly white bra with tit flesh hanging out above and below her bra. Her tits were squished inside a 46 EE bra and losing the battle. She watched my. I turned my head away. I sensed the delicate touch of the cloth briefly against the ruined place between my legs. He then pulled the tattered remnants of my skirt over my nakedness. But there was no need. Modesty and shame had become only words to me. Achingly small, and weak, and meaningless words. Laughter and guttural jests in the other rooms of my home were punctuated by the crash of breaking furniture and glass. But here it was quiet. My eyes still fixed on the wall, I waited. Moments passed and the quiet endured. When finally I turned, the soldier was still on his knees by my bed, his face buried in his hands as he silently wept. For a flittering moment I felt the urge to reach out and touch him on the shoulder, until my anger flared and crushed the despicable notion. To evoke such a feeling of compassion was a violation as despicable as that of those others, and perhaps even more so! I wanted to kick him. To scream and punch. To hurt him in every possible way. He looked up.
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