She shifted her position andcrossed her legs. Albert had another sudden flashback. The rasp of hernylon stockings rubbing together brought back more m...mories.Her accent had changed. He had met her, then a girl of eighteen, whenhe was with the army on a training course on the Salisbury Plain. Atthe time she had been visiting an aunt in Salisbury. Martha was fromCornwall, her accent showing the rolling of the West Country. Now itwas getting much more cultured, but yet with a more than a hint. She laughed at some innuendo I made and then placed her hand on my thigh. She slid it up my jeans and squeezed my crotch. “Can I take a look?” she asked. I smiled weakly.Her fingers reached for my button and then her other hand reached for the zip and pulled it down. She reached in and looked up to my eyes, “Commando, I like that.” Her fingers wrapped around my cock and she pulled me free. A small amount of pre cum dribbled from my head and she looked down. “May I?” she asked unnecessarily.Her. More

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