Working for the government, especially in the line of work I do, requires some secrecy and a lot of times codes. Everyone I work with out in the field... has some sort of code name for themselves. Some for personal protection for their families even work under aliases, which is why I doubt Smith is the real name for my boss, though it could be. Honestly, I have respected his privacy to much to check up on it, though I am totally sure he knows everything about me, but I’m not worried because I have. It caught him by surprise and she pinned his arms to the couch before he could mount a defense. He looked up into her smiling face.“You are the only person who picks on me,” she said.“I can stop if you want,” Phil offered. She was laying half across him and if he tilted his head slightly he was sure he could look down the front of her shirt.“I like it,” she said. “I wasn’t really mad. I just figured I could pay you back in some other way than assassinating your avatar. Now I’m not so sure. If I. “Actually, can you go a bit higher? You’ll need to push my sarong up a bit further,” she said. “Sure thing,” I croaked, like a boy whose voice is just breaking.She lifted herself off the ground a bit and I duly slid the light material up her thighs. I took a risk, pushing it right up to her buttocks, half-expecting her to protest. She didn’t. As I smeared lotion around her upper and inner thighs, I started at her yellow gusset. She must have known I could see it, but I certainly wasn’t. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. A quick retirement from the Army and I could get on with my life.Never, ever underestimate the perversity of the military bureaucracy.That night, after the dinner meal (and they say MREs are a lousy substitute for food), I wrote a short letter to my sister.My dearest Izzy, Pay no attention to anything you may have heard from the Army or the DoD about me being missing or killed. I'm alive and kicking. A little perforated, but otherwise fine and back in the US.I'll.