The Stowaway's Keeper - Cover

The Stowaway's Keeper

Copyright© 2024 by HppyHrryHrdn

Chapter 16: Dressed for Success

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 16: Dressed for Success - In the 80's, John was looking to go some place no one would know him. He was not planning on starting his new life with a 14 year old girl. She and her friends keep his life anything but mundane, despite his best intentions to keep it that way at his new home. Codes will change as story progresses.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   mt/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Teenagers   Coercion   Consensual   Drunk/Drugged   Reluctant   Fiction   Humiliation   Anal Sex   Analingus   Slow  

“And I thought earlier was the best it could get,” Dorothy commented, panting a little less than before.

“Nope.’ I said, still plugging her hole. “For me, making love is the bee’s knees. It is kind of why I limit it to certain people I really care for. For all others, sex and fucking are good enough.”

“So I’m special?” Dorothy asked.

“Of course, otherwise I wouldn’t be here,” I answered.

“I’m glad you are. Otherwise, I’d have gone through life not knowing how much I love sex and making love. I hope my daughters meet someone like you. Someone who will love them and make love with them so they can feel this special. A man to show them how good their body can actually feel.” Dorothy rambled, singing my praises.

I felt a bit like a pervert wanting to say I’d be happy to one day show Helen. Instead, I said, “I think one day your daughter will find that someone. You just have to be open to who they are and not judge. You were saddled with a father and brother who saw women as breeding stock. They took all the joy out of sex and being sexual from you. Don’t do that to them.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Dorothy assured me. “It is for them that I came here in the first place. But I’m staying for me. Hell in a few short hours, I’ve been a goddess, a kind of submissive, and someone special, but never have you made me be breeding stock. So I want to find out what else I can be. And I want you to show me.” She kissed my chest and ran her hand over it, following the lines of my pectorals.

I was amazed at how fast she had changed. But years of repression had been turned loose. And at the moment, she was also likely still under the spell of hormones flooding her brain. I’d use them both to have her do the next step in her developing into a sexual being. “Good to know. Maybe after we go out for dinner we can try something new. But right now I need fuel.”

“OK, I’ll get up and get ready, then we can go out. I packed a few nice things, or I can just put back on the outfit I was wearing when I came in. I think it looked nice.” Dorothy said, still half pinned to the bed with my dick in her.

“No, you were elegant while being smoking hot in that outfit. And while I loved it, it is not the look I was hoping for when we go out. Would you mind if I pick out your outfit for tonight?” I asked nonchalantly.

She smiled at me, answering, “Sure, you pick it, and I’ll wear it.”

“Promise? I sometimes wear plaid with stripes and black socks,” I said, disguising my true intention.

“Sure, I promise.” Then, like a little girl, she said, “Cross my heart and hope to die; stick a needle in my eye.”

I laughed, “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that. And no hoping to die, and if I were going to stick a needle in you, it definitely wouldn’t be your eye. You have too pretty of eyes, and they go so well with that beautiful face of yours. But I’m sure I could find somewhere to stick it.” I nodded downward.

“Oh, God no. I definitely don’t want that.” She said, looking apprehensive at the idea of a needle in her nether region.

“Good, me either. How about you stay standing up next to the table while I get you a drink? What would you like from the minibar?”

“Bourbon like the other night would be nice,” she said.

“Ok,” I replied, adding, “I’m going to pull out of you now. And you can be my mannequin, but drinking while I figure out what you should wear.”

“Damn, I was hoping I could keep you for the rest of the weekend.” She said. She moaned as I slid my semi-hard cock the rest of the way out of her still-plugged vagina. She groused a bit when we were no longer attached. But she took my hand and quickly stood next to the bed naked while I reached into the minibar and got her a drink.

Dorothy once again was quite a vision, standing completely naked. She looked uncomfortable standing there without any clothes. Unconsciously, she put her arm across her chest, covering her nipples. Her other hand went to cover her neatly trimmed bush that was matted with her juices. And despite her unease, her eyes followed my dancing cock as I walked back to her. I handed her the drink and said, “Dorothy, you’re truly a vision to behold. Right now, you couldn’t look any more beautiful. You should be on high, letting the mortals worship you from afar. Instead, a lucky few will get to worship you up close as you walk among us, mere mortals.”

She blushed and giggled, “John, you are the sweetest and funniest man I have ever met. And you make me feel so special while saying the damnedest things.” She put the filled glass to her naturally red pouty lips. She sipped on the Bourbon while I put her suitcase on the bed and opened it. I was glad to see she had likely gone to the local library and looked at travel books before coming to the hotel. She had seen it had a pool and had bought a new bikini and a black floral sarong. It would be perfect for the look I was going for. While I was getting it out of the suitcase, Dorothy suddenly got antsy.

“John, I think your goddess mannequin needs to run to the bathroom. What you put in me is coming out,” she said, starting to put down her drink.

“No, stay; it will be fine. Just put your legs together, and we’ll deal with it later.” I said more in my military command voice than I had intended.

She immediately stopped moving to put the drink down and pressed her thighs together. She looked at me a second, unsure, before the afterglow hormones did their job and took away her worry. She smiled, “OK, let’s see how bad you are at matching clothes.”

She held out one hand while she turned the glass up, downing the rest of the Bourbon. Something in the back of her brain must’ve been warning her it wasn’t mismatched clothes she needed to worry about. “You can put your hand down. I haven’t decided yet. I have to go through what you brought and see if it matches anything I brought with me.” I lied; I hadn’t brought any clothes for her, figuring we would spend almost all the weekend nude having some form of sex.

I didn’t want Dorothy to know how I was planning on dressing her, so I suggested, “And I want this to be a surprise. You wouldn’t be opposed to wearing a blindfold while I try different combinations on you, would you?”

“I said I’d wear what you picked out. So, no, a surprise might be nice,” she said while shaking her empty glass, making the one ice cube rattle.

“OK, I’ll get a blindfold and refresh your drink.” I walked to my case of toys and pulled out a black blindfold.

“Do you always travel with a blindfold?” she asked curiously.

I answered her honestly, “It kind of depends on who I’m traveling with and what kind of activities they are into. And since I had no idea about you, I went the Boy Scout way.” I got behind her and put the black mask on her face, pulling the elastic band over her head where it would secure it.

“Boy Scout way?” she asked as I went to fix her drink.

I had poured her a triple in what was a water glass. I put it in her hand. “Yeah, their motto is, be prepared.”

“Ok, let’s get to getting me dressed for dinner.” She put the cup to her lips and took a gulp.

I knew she would know what she brought, so I would have to put things on her and take them off multiple times. A couple of times I had her baggy shorts on her and put a skirt over them just to take them back off. First the shorts, then the skirt after replacing it with a different one.

I did a lot of mixing and matching, though after a few minutes I knew what she would be wearing. As I dug through her packed clothes, I realized she had packed a lot of clothes for a weekend that she had to know would be spent mostly naked. Over and over, I put clothes on her only to remove them later. The only constant was her garter belt and stockings. They stayed where they were. The stocking, besides being sexy as hell, also served a second purpose.

My dressing and undressing her meant her thighs couldn’t be held together all the time. The cream from her cream pie ran down her silken thighs and was absorbed by her stockings. The absorbed cum made wet streaks down the black lace. I could tell she was concerned about it by the way she fidgeted and continually rubbed her thighs together. Yet she didn’t say anything more about the ooze coming out from between her wet, bloated lips.

Knowing what in the end she would be wearing, I had one more thing to do to complete her look. And while originally I had done what I could to avoid giving her any long-term markings, they would accent her ensemble. So bending down and sucking the same place on her inner thighs each time I change what was around her waist or on her breast around her nipples when changing her shirt. Gradually, I darkened the skin, turning it purple. Dorothy was unaware of what I was doing. She just held the back of my head, pressing me harder into her, saying, “Oh John, that feels so good. Ahh, don’t stop ... mmm, suck on me.” Each time she tried moving me to her nipple or pussy, and each time I resisted. The purple marks were perfectly pornographic when I had finished.

For over ten minutes, I used every article of clothing she had brought and most of what I had brought for me on her frame at some point. I had her completely confused about what I had put on her after fifteen minutes. At which point I had on her exactly what I wanted her to wear out to dinner. I had tied a black floral sarong around her waist, covering up the top of her garter belt. The makeshift skirt was open on the left side to about the middle of her hip bone. It curved over to the middle of her right thigh. The slit exposed all of her left leg and much of the left side of her pelvis halfway up her hip bone. The whole left stocking and the garter belt straps holding it were not covered. At the right angle, or likely with every step, her dark brown wet and matted pussyhair would be flashed. The ooze still leaking from between her fat pussy petals and the whisp of thin, darkened lips covered in the sheen of cum were barely visible as well. The cum stains between her thighs going down her stockings were also easily seen next to the big purple hickeys. To confuse her until we left, I held the skirt closed with a couple of nipple clips I had in my case of toys.

I put her in two-inch heels that, with the light sarong, gave her already round butt a perfect curve and defined ass crack. Her sculptured calves and tight thighs next to the rest of her outfit gave her lower half an altogether obscene and lewd appearance. I matched the raunchy view below her waist, above it.

She had a sheer white blouse that was basically see-through and would have normally had a slip under it. She wasn’t wearing the slip. Additionally, she wouldn’t be buttoning up. I cut off the top four buttons of the blouse, to well below where her cleavage ended. The sheer fabric flapped easily, and without restraints, only her dark rose cones atop her tits caught the opening, preventing it from falling completely open. The hickeys around her nipples extended out to past where the sheer blouse was caught. The blouse’s opening was also held closed temporarily with a nipple clip. But even closed her dark areolas, and the puffed cones on her upturned breast could have just as well had nothing covering them. They and her nipples would be all anyone looked at above her waist. Though I think a few people would appreciate the gentle swoop of her breast and the roundness of them and the fact they had no sag to them. If passersby knew two children had fed from those breasts, they would’ve stared in awe, though I think many would anyway.

Her hair still had the evidence of bedhead. The blindfold was adding a new crease to her messy hair as well. Her lips were full and rose-colored despite having no lipstick on them. And before I had put on the blindfold, her eyeliner was slightly smudged. There was also the light shine of saliva that had remained on her neck from my kissing and lightly running my tongue over it.

And if all of that didn’t draw everyone’s attention, people walking close by her would have their noses assaulted. She smelled of sex. She had a musky smell that was augmented with the smell of cum. And her natural scent from exertion filled whatever air was left.

The whole time I was getting Dorothy ready, I had been putting on clothes as well. I wouldn’t give Dorothy any time between seeing her outfit and leaving for the Italian restaurant to have second thoughts about her promise. Actually, we would leave so she couldn’t act on her second thoughts about her promise because she would have second thoughts.

Quietly, I opened the door to the hall after taking the empty cup from her hand. I spun her around under the guise of, “OK, let me look at you. You’re perfect.”

The alcohol had already started affecting her slightly. She stammered over, “Can I look now? So I know what I have to do to finish getting ready.”

“We’ll finish getting you ready together,” I said. Directing her out the door, I added, “The light and mirror are better over here. And I’ll help you finish getting ready.” I let the door close behind us silently. There was no way for her to get back into the room without the key, and I had that. I knew she thought finishing getting ready included cleaning up her twat, putting on undergarments, brushing her hair, and putting on makeup. These definitely were not what I had in mind for finishing getting ready. My version was making sure all the hickeys next to her nipples that could be seen through the sheer blouse and the ones next to her pussy would peek out from behind her sarong.

In front of the full-length mirror across from the door, I said, “Close your eyes while I take off the blindfold.”

“Ok,” she replied cheerfully.

All the nipple clips were quickly removed before going behind her. I tossed the clips in my hands down the hall instead of in my pocket. That way she wouldn’t know about their existence and want them back. Her sarong fell open the way it had when I first put it on her. Her pussy and hickeys on her right thigh were flashed quickly as the fabric swung as it fell back in place. The hickeys on the left inner thigh were partially visible all the time. Her blouse also fell open, giving me and anyone that looked an uncovered view of her cleavage and part of her undertits.

“Ok, you can open your eyes,” I said to her, watching her face in the mirror.

Like a little girl, she said, “Goody.” When her eyes opened, her face completely changed. She saw what I saw in the mirror. She looked like a nymphomaniac fresh from being fucked, showing off her body trying to attract her next hard cock. “Oh my god, no ... No, I can’t go out like this. Even fixed up ... I can’t.” She began trembling all over, pulling first on the blouse, trying to make it close. She pulled even more on the sarong. Her voice cracking under the duress, “While I get fixed up ... please pick something else ... please.” She pleaded.

“You’re perfect. No fixing up could make you look more desirable,” I said straight-faced. “You are beautiful and perfect as is. So let’s go. We have dinner to get.” I reached out a hand for her to take.

She just stood there shaking, looking at the mirror. “I look like a whore. You can see my nipples. And oh hell, I have hickeys on my tits. They’re right out in the open.” She turned her hips slightly, still looking in the mirror. “Oh hell, you can see right into my blouse and see the undersides of my breasts.” On the verge of tears, she pleaded more, “Please don’t make me go ... People can’t see me like this.”

“But you promised to wear what I picked out,” I said firmly. She shook more at my statement, and her eyes filled with tears, seeing my resolution she would fulfill her promise. And you don’t look like a whore. You look like sex incarnate. And you should be proud of your body and the sexual pleasures it can experience and give. So let people you’ll never see again, gawk. They’re gawking because they either don’t have a gorgeous body like yours that people desire. Or the courage to enjoy sex to the fullest and let others know that they do.” (It was the age before the internet where her photo would not end up on every porn site across the world.)

Dorothy was only half-listening to me, still getting the full view of her appearance. She twisted again, and the air caught in her sarong and raised it, letting a small breeze pass over her still-sensitive pussy. She looked down at that point, no longer fixated just on her tits. The water that had gathered in her eyes came streaming down her cheeks. “I can see my vagina ... Oh, no ... no ... no ... no ... I can’t; there are hickeys next to it. People will see I have hickeys next to my vagina. They’ll know you’ve kissed me there ... That you kissed me there, and I liked it ... That you made me cum with your lips and tongue.” She was coming completely unhinged, looking at herself. I let her continue looking and seeing all I could see.

Despite her relatively quick breakdown, which being tipsy helped along, I wasn’t about to let her back in the room to change. “Yes, they likely will see your pussy and the hickeys next to it. And yes, they will probably know you have been eaten in the past. So what? The guys that see it will wish they were the ones that did it or that you’d let them do it. The girls will be jealous that you are beautiful and confident enough to show yourself off while letting them know you’ve climaxed from being eaten. So what? Will you ever see these mere mortals again? And why do you care what they think? Be confident in yourself and how desirable you are. And I do so want to go back into the room and have sex with you right now. You look so utterly fuckable.”

Her cracked mind latched on to the last word, though I knew the others would run through her brain as we walked among other people. “Fuckable?”

“Yes, fuckable. Animalistic, solely for the pleasures your body could give and receive, fuckable,” I answered. “No lovemaking. Being as nasty as you can get to find the pleasures in your body, fucking. You haven’t done that yet. But you will. Just like you will go out dressed as you are with your head held high, knowing you are the sexiest and most desirable woman in the country. You’ll spend a couple of hours getting me worked up just looking at you.”

She was still shaking but listening more closely than before. Yet she still wasn’t confident enough to move. “But I can’t. I have grown girls, and what would they say if they saw me like this? I’m not pretty enough to do this; people will laugh at the desperate old woman who has to parade around virtually naked to have anyone look at her.”

“Your daughters would be shocked. Not in the way you think, though. They’d be shocked you have such a splendid body you’ve been hiding all these years. And that you enjoy sex and are a sexual woman and not afraid to let it be known.” I said to Dorothy, wiping away the tears that remained on her cheeks. No more tears were coming as I continued, “And I don’t think you’re not pretty enough. From the minute I saw you this morning, fully dressed, I might add, I said what? I said you’re gorgeous. Plus, you’re not desperate, just inexperienced. And we’re taking care of that, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” She looked at me, looking pathetic and forlorn, obviously hoping I would change my mind. Meekly she said, “This is part of it, isn’t it? You’re trying to show me something else about sex I’ve missed. But I’m not strong enough. I can’t learn this lesson.”

“When you’re not feeling strong enough, lean on me. Squeeze my hand. Do something, and I’ll help support you. You know I won’t hurt you or put you in danger. But I will have you go way outside your comfort zone. And on this one, you promised. So I’m going to keep you way past what is comfortable all night.” I informed her.

Her whole body tensed up, and she held out her hand, “OK, let’s go. But first, can we go to the hotel bar? I need more courage.”

“Sure, but remember not to get too courageous. Unless you want to try a gang-bang this weekend. I said I won’t put you in danger, but I won’t stop you if you do it to yourself,” I said. It was my nice way of informing her I wouldn’t be standing in the way of anything she wanted to try sexually, even if it was only because she was blackout drunk. “I figured that lesson was many weekends down the road. But you have surprised me already.”

“Really.” She sounded a bit more confident. “How?”

“I’d never have thought you’d like the flogger or give a blowjob just because you wanted to,” I answered, taking her hand. “To the bar it is.”

We had the elevator to ourselves, but Dorothy still clung to me like her life depended on it. I could tell when she started rubbing her thighs together, spreading the ooze running down her thigh out on her skin before it got to her nylons. The smell of cum filled the elevator as she smeared the fluid on her skin.

On the first floor, when the elevator door opened, Dorothy refused to move. She squeezed my arm and whispered, “You’re leaking out of me. It’s gonna dip on the floor or run down my leg.”

Calmly, like it was normal for women to drip cum out of their cunts while walking around, I said, “So let it drip or run. I, though, would suggest you not sit on your skirt on the bar stool unless you want a wet spot on it all night.”

She squeezed my hand, and I squeezed hers back. “Oh hell, here we go.” She stepped out of the elevator, turning beet red. She was red from her hairline down into the wide-open blouse and her tits. Every head in the bar turned to her after the first guy looked. The whole place went silent so much so you could hear the ice cubes melting in their glasses. Even the gathering of seven fit young guys on the far side of the bar went silent.

Dorothy’s fingernails clawed the back of my hand when a freckled-faced, red-headed boy of eighteen (drinking age was eighteen) said to his buddies not so quietly, “Damn, did you see that? You can see her pussy. And she’s got cum coming out of it. Hell, I’d fuck that thing even as sloppy seconds or thirds.”

An old lady with gray hair sitting with her back to Dorothy saw her husband staring past her shoulder. She turned just as Dorothy’s sarong opened a bit further, putting Dorothy’s matted pubic hair and dripping cunt in the woman’s face. She snapped her head back to her husband and admonished him loudly. “Quit looking at that whore. She’s a slut, showing her privates to the world. With hickeys no less.”

I let go of Dorothy’s hand for a moment and leaned down to the woman. “You know you’d be lucky if you ever had privates that looked or tasted as good as that slut’s. And if you blew your husband more often, he wouldn’t be over there wishing he could just touch it for a second.” The indignant look on the woman’s face was priceless.

I took Dorothy’s hand again and continued to the bar. She leaned into me and said, “Thank you.” As we went on, I heard a small splat coming from the ground. If possible, Dorothy got even redder; the cause was obvious, and I didn’t look when she said, “I’m so embarrassed I want to die.”

I ignored the elephant and patted a bar stool, “Sit here.” Every eye was on her ass as she sat down. The smooth skin of her ass’s curvature was visible for a second as she threw the sarong wide and sat her naked butt cheeks on the vinyl seat. In my mind, I could see the old man coming over and sniffing the seat after we left.

The noise in the bar slowly returned, but it had more of a raucous tenor to it. The bartender’s eyes never met Dorothy’s; instead, they stayed glued to her nipples. He asked, “What do you want?” I could tell by the way he finally looked at her, he was hoping she would say a hard dick to fuck her all night long.

“What is the strongest drink you have that doesn’t taste like rubbing alcohol?” She asked, obviously planning on drinking her courage.

“A long island ice-t should do the trick,” he said again, leering at her chest. “And you, sir?” he asked in the tone of saying, You lucky bastard.

“Bourbon on the rocks,” I replied, not looking at him but watching all the people watching Dorothy.

Before the drinks arrived, she closed her eyes and pressed her thighs together tightly. In a quiet sound of resignation, she uttered, “Oh shit not again.” She squirmed on the stool, shifting her weight from butt cheek to butt cheek. She looked over her shoulder and said, “I hate you right now. And I don’t hate anyone.”

“That’s OK, you’ll love me later,” I said with confidence. The bartender again leered at her as he put the drinks on the bar. Dorothy picked up the large glass and sipped it first. Liking the taste, she turned it up and downed the concoction. I leaned into her and said, “You know that was the same as four shots. And seeing as the bartender wants to see you drunk and maybe cope a feel, he probably made it extra strong.”

“Great, get me another while I go pee,” she put air quotes around pee.

“I know women usually do that in twos. Would you like me to walk you to the powder room?” I asked. I wouldn’t have offered had she looked any other way. But the likelihood of being accosted while I wasn’t next to her was high.

“No, I am a grown woman. I can go myself,” the tone of her answer was hostile.

“Ok,” I said calmly, making her hostility more evident.

She must have realized how hostile she sounded and apologized, “Sorry. Thanks for the offer, but I think I can walk across the room alone.” I could hear her ass cheeks being peeled from the vinyl seat. Her hands went around to the back of my neck and pulled me forward. She gently put her lips on mine quickly. The first kiss we’d ever shared in public. She realized this and put her hand over her lips. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why not? I liked it. Didn’t you like it?” I asked.

“Shut up, of course; I liked it. But I still hate you.” She said, kissing me a second time, just a smidge longer. She crossed her arms over her chest and headed to the women’s bathroom. It was then I looked at where she had been sitting, seeing the smeared goo on it. I took the cocktail napkin and wiped the seat clean for Dorothy’s return.

I waved down the bartender, who with just me there wasn’t as interested as before, “Please get her another Long Island ice-t, but this time cut the alcohol. Make it about a fourth as strong as the last one.”

“I’m gonna have to still charge you the full price,” he said. “And I’d think you’d want to get a sl...” He didn’t finish the word slut when he saw my look of say it and you’ll be eating bar. “ ... a woman that dresses like that drunk and fuck the shit out of her.”

One of the younger guys, who was slightly tipsy, came over and overheard our conversation and interjected himself, “How did you get a woman that fucking hot to come out showing off her rack and twat to everyone? She must be costing you a mint. Because she’s got one fine rack and that twat of hers ... umm. I bet she knows how to use it, too. Is she looking for a third to tap that shit cause I’m down if she is?”

“Dorothy is a friend, so I am paying her nothing. She volunteered to come out wearing that outfit. And yes, her breasts would be nice looking on any woman but are amazing on a woman of her age. I mean, how old are you? Eighteen or nineteen? Her daughter is that old.” I said, trying to adjust his drunken expectations.

“Damn, she’s a mom? Hell, she’s a mom I’d like to fuck. She is hot. And, you said friend, not girlfriend, so she’s available. Shit, I’m definitely gonna hit that before one of my buddies does.” He said, assuming I was there as a wingman and nothing else.

“You got a name? So I can tell it, to her in the morning. I am assuming this was just a stopover and you and your buddies are going out somewhere,” I said. Actually, it was so I could use his name while I beat the shit out of him later.

“Sam,” he said. Then he waved to his buddies to come over. As each one came over, he said their names: “This is Mike, Jay, Andy, Bob, Ed, and TJ. We’re out celebrating TJ being a dumbass. He has to report to the recruiter on Monday for boot camp. So we are taking him to a strip club because it’s the last pussy he is going to see for a long time. Who fucking knew, we’d get to see some fine trim and a great rack right here in the bar.” Turning to his equally drunk buddies, he announced, “The fucking hot bitch is a mom. Can you believe that shit? That fine ass and cunt that has been sucked on recently has got a daughter our age. I bet she is even hotter than her mom. We’ll have to find that little whore and fuck her, too. But I think tonight we do the ... Woo Woo.” He made like a train engineer pulling the whistle cord. “I bet she can do all of us and not break a sweat, except in that juicy pussy of hers.”

The bartender looked at me with horror. He was, obviously, afraid I would be killing the little smartass right there in the bar. I thought about it, but it would depend on Dorothy. If he pissed her off, too, he wasn’t long for this world. If she didn’t care, then where was it my business grinding him into pulp? I decided the best course of action was to talk to TJ while the rest of the drunk guys went on boasting about who could fuck Dorothy best with the biggest dick.

I said to TJ, “I was in the service. It was a great experience while I was in. And Sam is so far off about women. The service will get you lean and buff, and even a private in his dress uniform tends to attract women. All you have to do is treat them right. Which, by the way, if your drill instructor is worth a shit, if he finds out you’re not, there are always live-fire range accidents.”

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