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You push in deeper, pressing down on my tongue so that the only way that I can please you is to suck.And suck, I do.Hard. Noisily. You grab my head, pulling me forwards as I take the rest of your length. I perfectly time my sucking with your thrusting and the noises you are making tell me that you are enjoying my efforts.I’m starting to think that you will cum in my mouth when you abruptly withdraw.“Roll over,” you tell me, grabbing a pillow and shoving it under my hips.I do as you say. I am lying almost flat out on my front. My tits are squashed underneath me, my ass is slightly raised. I wonder which hole you are intending on penetrating next. As you roughly jam two fingers into my soaking pussy, I think I have my answer.You climb over me, your legs either side of mine, and lower your body towards me. I feel your cock pressing against my ass, slipping between the cheeks and I gasp.Surely you wouldn’t try anal without applying lube first? I think.“Maybe later,” you laugh as you. As I came to the surface, the dream destroying voice still in my ear, I took the information of my kitbag being on fire as a porkie. Those coming into the barrack room when most of the inhabitants were asleep were prone to waking slumbering apprentices, asking if they wanted to buy a battleship, or some other ludicrous question. I thought I had been woken by some similar late arriving ‘comedian’ and told the owner of the voice to go away, not in those exact words but using language which made my meaning crystal clear. Nonetheless the voice persisted.“No Jack, your kitbag really is on fire. Look.”My white canvas kitbag was stowed behind my bed on the heating pipes that ran around the room. I sat up and turned to look behind me. Sure enough there was a reddish tinge at one end of the white, cylindrical kitbag, making it appear like a glowing cigarette.I blame my subsequent action on being half asleep, and fully stupid.I jumped out of bed, grabbed the kitbag and rushed down the centre.
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