Pictures flew back and forth, I'd send my throbbing dick and in return receive pictures of her pussy, sometimes just her spread legs, her pussy in all... its glory, other times it would be stuffed with fingers or toys. One thing was always certain - she'd be dripping wet and I'd be rock hard. One thing, however, had become a frustration. Occasionally I would instigate a sexting session only to be met by a cold shoulder and I'd find myself horny but with no outlet. I couldn't understand it for a. Other times, he’s a Russian blue tomcat who amuses himself by writing stories about human sexuality. Occasionally, he’s a rakshasa.”Again, his form flickered, this time revealing a massive bipedal tiger-man dressed in a red smoking jacket. Tom said, “I’d use that one more often, but I worry about licensing rights.”Tanvi gave an uncertain smile. She’d grown up hearing stories of the rakshasa - the evil gods of Hindu mythology that she definitely didn’t believe in as a modern, rational Indian. "I'll get that." She gave me a quicksly grin, then bounded to the door. I was left standing, curious.Something was up, and I wasn't sure I liked being left in the dark."Hi!" Jill sang sweetly as she opened the door. "Right on time."My jaw nearly hit the floor when I saw Cheri walk in. "Hi, Jill,"Cheri said, just as pleasantly. "I wouldn't miss this for the world."Then she seemed to notice me, as if I were an afterthought. "Hi,Joe."I was still surprised, but I managed to answer. "I didn't. A dozen sailors emerged from the Kitten transporters behind the lines, carrying with them strange-looking bundles of metal stakes and bales of long, extra-spiky barbed wire. The stakes had been designed on an old World War I barbed wire fence design someone had uncovered in a history book, and swiftly replicated. The grand plan: to recreate, using ice and snow rather than mud, muck and mire, the trenches of Flanders Fields.The good news was that the Sa'arm were getting bogged down in the snow.