<br/><div class="floatleft">(http://media-cache-cd0.pinimg.com/736x/d9/98/1e/d9981e79a951efe0acb3b4d05f1a5ac1.jpg)</div><strong>Name: </strong>Jena Hargreave<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Firing range observation room<br/><strong>Action:</strong>The REAL meaning of 'service'<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Hailey<br/><br/><br/>"Oh, damn, girl," Jena purred, spreading her legs a bit and leaning back, thighs trembling a bit as Hailey dove into her center. "Someone brought you up<strong>real</strong>good." Eyes closed, teeth set in her bottom lip, she stroked the head buried between her thighs, growling and pushing her in harder once or twice. Her juices, salty with hints of ash and cinnamon, ran freely, teased out by the Australian's fingers and tongue, making her lips, chin and hand slick and shiny.<br/><br/>Before she gave in completely, though, and gave Hailey her reward, she took hold of the woman's ears and tugged her face away from her dripping slit. "Don't seem right, you on the sick list, all down on your knees not gettin' any attention." She reached a hand down to help her partner stand. "Let's see if maybe we can't even things up a bit, huh?"