Jason set up his tripod and video camera on the table and pulled the cushioned lounge chair around in front of it. He grabbed the tanning oil out of h...s bag and then set it down next to the table. When he turned around, he jumped at first, because he hadn’t heard Cindy walk outside. Then his jaw went slack. Cindy stood there, looking blankly out across the pool to the Intercoastal waterway. Jason had purchased a bikini he knew was too small for her 36D tits. The tight, white top just covered. A no-boner in the fleshy part of the thigh . . . perhaps a little side-shot – like a modern version of a Heidelberg saber scar. All honorable service. Riley won’t get a medal for this. We’re not fucking green berets with purple hearts flowing out of our asses. This is a hard army. You don’t get medals for nothing in this army. Riley didn’t do anything heroic and that’s the nub of us. We’re anti-heroes. We are anti-Gung Ho. The last thing we care about is heroism. All we do heroism-wise is drag. More

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