I'd gotten a touch of malaria on the Canal, and now here I was playing guard dog to the damned Seabees, watching to see that no sniper took a potshot ...at those hotshot 'dozer jockeys.Kathleen her name was, the name the missionaries gave her. I couldn't get my mouth around her native name. Damned if she didn't initiate me into the mysteries, and with none of the nonsense the girls stateside used to insist on. Got right to the point. And whatever else the missionaries taught her, it didn't include. A car made a turn on her street and fearing to get caught by one of her neighbor, she removed her hands from my pants and wrapped them around my neck before telling me she really had to go. I understood and removed mine from her legging and tied my pants and belt while being as subtle as possible. She smiled at the effort I was making and waited for me to finish before letting go of me and then turned around and started to walk towards the stairs of the appartment. Half way there, she stopped. He twined his fingers through it and drew her mouth to his, thrusting with his tongue the way he did with his cock -- slow, steady and deep, letting her get used to the sensation. She slipped her hands under her shirt and palmed her breasts, the friction from the lace of her bra rubbing over taut nipples sent bursts of pleasure through her body."You all right?" he murmured against her throat, skating his hand over her back and hip before moving between them to tease at her clit again."Oh, yes.". I want to suck Stephanie," I said. "Please... I... I want it... I need it. Please."With each "please" I felt Stephanie getting harder.Of course, the pauses and the hesitation were all for show. I wanted to devour her, to pull her into my mouth and pleasure her.She looked to her Daddy and he nodded his ascent. Quickly, I was gifted with the feeling of her pushing past my lips and over my tongue. My lips locked onto her and she began pushing herself deeper into my waiting maw.She found a rhythm.