Mrs Wilk was not a beautiful woman but I fantasized about her that night. I imagined I had her secret and that I knew the man in the rich blue suit. M...ore, I had the paperwork that proved her infidelity or her dark secret. It was easy to think of the suburban housewife on her knees in front of me, begging, pleading for me to keep the secret. ‘Sure, but take your top off.’ ‘I won’t tell if you won’t.’ ‘Show me your tits Mrs Wilk,’ ‘I’ll stay quiet if you suck it Mrs Wilk.’ The fantasies were. After a minute or so, they both entered the room and Babette introduced Johnny to me. He had a paintbrush in one hand and a tall empty glass in the other with a chunk of lemon in the bottom. He cast his eyes around the paintings on the wall and explained that he was outside creating his latest masterpiece. “I sell them through a dealer in Paris,” he said. His kaftan was liberally spattered with paint but, in a way, it really suited his bohemian appearance. He was probably in his late twenties. I don't think their speech adequately expressed how I feel about this holiday. When I talked to Mr. Cheatley I asked him what he'd like me to speak about he offered a few suggestions which I think I can better work with than informal PA stuff.So who am I? Like you I am a warrior fighting for peace. I'm Puff and I work as an electronic warfare officer (EWO) on the B-52 Stratofortress. My days consist of either scheduling and executing the wing's flying schedule or flying as a part of it. While. I wentand got a small mirror she used when she brushed herhair. I got a card out and tossed it in the floor, thenI sat in the chair he had been in. I told her to pickup the card, like she had all night long. When she did,I said, “Stay just like that! Now look in the mirror atwhat he got to see.”When she looked up, I could tell then, that she knewhe’d seen all of her tits. At first she was pissed. She was going on about thenext time she seen him, she’d tell him she.