The dream changed to everyone leaving a couple of blocks down, all except Mr. Smith. I sneaked back up and found Señor had moved under some trees for...shade, still lying on the tanning bed, still naked. His eyes were still closed, so I slowly walked up to him. I pulled off my pants and underwear at once. I threw off my shirt. I slowly crawled onto the bed on all fours. Mr. Smith's eyes were still closed. I put my hand against his thigh and rubbed him up and down. 'Mr. Smith,' I whispered. His. "Manny likes her English Breakfast just so," Ashley explained. "Any deviation makes her ill." I'm reluctant to chuck this in the recycle chute," I said. "My military career started as a gropo—a soldier in the Fighting 69th Infantry Regiment. This isn't bad. It's tastier than what I ate when I was on the Marsh Hare. Ever have a kibble bar? No?" Ashley shook her head. "When you are up to it, I'll give you a piece. That's a combat ration and it redefines 'doggy chow.' Hunger spices up almost. More

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