When the framework reached the top of the tower, they left me hanging there for what seemed like hours before releasing me. Two hundred and fifty feet...was a long way down for a country boy who'd never been in a building taller than three stories.The cadre sergeant in charge of Tower Week was particularly adept at making us miserable. His name was Horace Bechtel, and he had been a paratrooper since there had been an airborne. Sergeant First Class Bechtel was small, wiry and as mean as a water. They had also demanded that I not touch myself in any way.Third, they had added the requirement that, as well as describing them, I had to also describe what I wanted to do with them.I had to clear my throat three or four times before I could speak."This could get a little graphic," I said weakly."That's okay," said Denise.Phee was holding a can of Diet Coke, and I went to her and took it. I took a swig and handed it back. I looked at her breasts, and then back at her face. She had a little. More

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