Officially, the military didn't allow women on the battlefield, but open warfare promotes real priorities. My mother, in a uniform, was as unisex as i...t gets, and her C.O. didn't give a fuck about sex the day tanks rolled across the Kuwait border.Her war experience affected her, but not in the classic way. She wasn't troubled by nightmares or flashbacks. It was hardly a real war, having lasted long enough to drive across that postage stamp of a country. It made her throw up. She told me once,. She hadn't been this much fun since fifth grade. Brenda continued her climb until she wrapped her legs around my waist and pressed her bare tummy into mine."Well, look who I got," Brenda cooed. "I need a hero," she sang. She wasn't moving around to my back. She started to slide down. "I'm slipping. Hold me up!" she demanded. I reached around and grabbed her with both hands. "That's better," she whispered. "I feel so safe now." She kissed me. It wasn't a fantastic sexy kiss—just a little peck on. I warmed my coffee, sat down and asked Emily, "How can something like that happen?" The combination of whiskey and pills slowed her breathing while she slept," Emily replied, "and her lungs couldn't keep up. They filled with water from her body and..."Five little pills, I thought. What a fucking miserable way to die. My mind filled with confusing and contradictory thoughts, and not one of them made me feel any better.As if sensing my thoughts, Emily stood up briskly and said, "We'd better go.". And Brownie eagerly held my hand to tell me about myself more. And all my points are what most girls like like listening , friendly, ready to help, sportive and dress well. Brownie forced me to share her order and I eagerly did. Then Apple and Fairy followed to share theirs. We enjoyed every minute of our chatting and eating.Every time I spoke I made sure they fall for me more and more with my controlled attitude and patience. I believe “Patience yields to profit”. So we used to meet every.