Violetta Vane's and my latest WIP is a little bit more tear-jerky than our usual, but it has its moments. So this Saturday Snark have some army barracks hijinks!
Any man past the age of ten would know that sound anywhere. Ori stared up at the shadowy frame of the metal bunk above him and sighed. He’d had a good day today -- passed his final test, a non-assisted parachute jump, with perfect marks -- and this was not how he wanted to celebrate: trapped underneath a Texas good ole boy with a masturbation technique as noisy as a rusty oil-well pumpjack.
Slap-slap-wheeze-flop-slap-slap. Ori felt like offering to help... not out of any sexual attraction, just to shut the guy up.
Someone else had noticed, singing out in a falsetto, “just beat it, beeeaaaat it, no one wants to be defeated!” The guy above him groaned in embarrassment as other voices picked up the chorus.
God. Army life. They might as well all be fifteen.
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