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” “Yes,” McGinty’s eyes narrowed, “well, must dash, I’ll see you two later.” The door closed and a moment later they heard the outer door slam shut. Dorothy exhaled suddenly and closed her eyes. They were alone. “We are alone,” Carl butted the cigarette out. Dorothy set the cigarette in the heavy pewter ashtray and started typing absently. It was a requisition request to the quartermaster, one of three she had done that morning. True to tradition, the British army demanded everything be documented, and in triplicate. She was vaguely aware that Carl was looking at her and she glanced up momentarily. “Would you like some tea? Now that we are alone?” “Huh?” Dorothy stared through her spectacles and felt moistness between her legs. “Tea,” he rose and made his way to the kettle, “a British tradition.” “Yes, of course,” she mumbled. The letters were running together and she cursed as she saw the typing error. With a sigh she pulled the paper out and inserted a fresh piece of paper, but two. What in God’s name is he doing in here? I could “sense” him staring at me which was quite unnerving. It was almost as if he was deciding what he wanted to do. Eventually, I could feel my comforter and bed sheet methodically being pulled off my bed and from my body. He took his time with this task and appeared to be taking every precaution not to wake me. I could feel the adrenaline being pumped into my bloodstream but I was way too scared to react in any proactive way. I felt weak and powerless. Trey finally pulled off the last bit of covers and there I was dressed solely in my T-shirt and yellow, cotton panties. I felt extremely vulnerable and was hoping it was all a bad dream. All of a sudden, my butt felt cool and I realized that Trey had pulled up my T-shirt. I next felt warm fingers slide inside my panties and over my butt. He was stroking my butt cheeks and lower back in a gentle, circular fashion with his fingers. I cringed as I thought of this old, perverted man touching my.
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