It looked like she had already given up hope."Try again! Don't let go!" I reached down for her with all my strength. I went as far as my body could st...etch.I could reach her, if only...if only she'd make another attempt.She looked up. I was shouting so loud I could feel my lungs bleed. We were both shivering uncontrollably."Hey! HEY! Give me your hand! Look at me! Give me Your hand." My voice died. I forced myself to go deeper, against what my mind was telling me."Give me...your hand...please. "Cheers," he utters with an air of sarcasm. "Asshole," you fire back, under your breath, but perhaps loud enough to be audible.But before you can pick up the shot glass containing the horrid mixture, the young lady in the leopard-skin top grabs the glass and downs the contents in one quick gulp. She looks in your direction and lets out a soft giggle, like a ten-year old who'd just eaten a worm on a dare. The bartender, taking in the scene, laughs. "There's your dream girl," he comments.You look. The poor girl was wearing an outfit that was suited more to a schoolgirl much younger than her eighteen years and I must shamefully confess the impression it made on my libido resulted in an erection of monstrous proportions bringing a blush to Amy’s face and a nervous crossing and uncrossing of her modestly covered knees that made me focus on her little hidden nest all the way up inside her pretty legs. I looked into her eyes and saw my lust reflected in her marvelous blue eyes. Fortunately,. “Joe, Marge, how are....” The smile crumpled off Dad's face.Joey's father shoved a paper into my dad's hand, and ushered his crying wife onto the sofa.“Hon, Joe and Marge are here. Come down here now,” my dad called up the steps.Mom rushed into the room, and saw Dad reading a telegram. Joey's parents were holding each other. “Oh my God!” Mom wailed, and threw herself at Marge on the couch.Dad finished reading. His hands were shaking. “He's M.I.A.? Missing in Action? Joe, Marge, that.
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