He would not be treated gently in a prisoner of war camp. He would not be killed. Unlike me, perhaps, he would live to return to his family. For him, ...he war was over. For me, the war ended 153 days later, when a passenger jet took me to Washington National Airport. Out in the field, when I was counting down the number of days until my return to “the world,” which was what we called the United States, the bar at Washington National Airport attained mythic proportions. That was because I. I couldn't stop orgasiming from the bottle moving around in me with every single step I took! Half the beer spilled on the floor when he opened it cause I was in the middle of cuming from him jerking the bottle around inside of me from trying to use the bottle opener. After the bottle was emptied out I kept it inside of me just so I could walk around and keep getting off! This ecstasy wouldn't let up on me or my poor pussy! Next thing I knew I was being passed around the room so each guy could. More

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