CAN YOU DO... ANYTHING... TO EVACUATE THEM? OVER." YES. BUT, NOT YET. NOT YET. CALL -- IF NEED BE... OUT."Edward and I ran to all the positions within the building, spreading the good word. We had some help. They were "already in a position to be helpful."Lovely words, those.It was around 5:45 in the afternoon when we heard the tanks.We couldn't see them. But they were out there, right out in front of us, somewhere. The nearest structures were those same apartment buildings -- perhaps 400 yards away, across the great open space in front of Brooke. The grinding noise of the tanks was distinct -- menacing. And it seemed to be coming from those apartment buildings.Tactically, it seemed to me that the enemy could have caused us more disruption by coming in from the rear. There was a complicated series of low-slung structures back there, and more cover for attackers.OK, so they weren't being led by a great military mind.Neither were we.Maybe, though, they figured that with those tanks,. ‘Here, give me your hand.’ A trembling, sweaty teenage hand found its way into the vast surface of her right breast, two fingers and a thumb on the green fabric, two fingers on the smooth, naked flesh exposed above it. She studied his eyes intently as they darted nervously up and down, side to side, confronted with this vision of extreme, potent femininity. ‘You may slip your hand under the dress, if you like,’ Emma whispered. ‘Just don’t pull it down. I can’t let you see the girls naked.’ Undeterred by this stated condition, Tom allowed his fingers, then his hand, then his wrist, to disappear beneath the cotton and caress the flawless sensual globe of Emma’s right boob. Ever so gently he squeezed and prodded, and Emma’s throbbing areola got the hands-on attention it needed. ‘No.’ The word came out of Emma’s mouth, uttered by some vestige of her conscience. ‘Wh-what? But you said…?’ Tom’s hand froze rigid against her tit. Emma lifted the limb out from under the dress, letting it snap.
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