Joe beamed a big smile and told us that we were invited to the officer's headquarters for dinner that night as his way of thanking us for our actions today.The following days after the market incident went by quickly. We had gone to dinner that night and talked to the officer in charge. The meal was easily forgettable but the uncomfortable feeling of being inside a prison like compound lingered.Captain Mubassa, the officer in charge of the re-act team that had arrived after the market shoot-out was a gracious host and I got the feeling that he wanted to know more about our operation.Two weeks after that incident, I came down to breakfast and noticed another person in the restaurant. He was an older guy, dressed for the weather and deeply tanned. He was sitting alone at a table by the window. I went into the banquet room that we had been using and asked Webb if we had guests in the hotel. He just shrugged and filled his plate from the buffet table. I put it aside and followed his. She looked down at herself and gasped. The wet blouse had become translucent and was plastered to her skin, showing the outline of her bra. Her cold nipples could clearly be seen through the fabric.She blushed and stammered out: "Yes, of course." Grabbing the jacket she stumbled in the direction of the confessional.She could feel his eyes watching her and she just couldn't help but add a little more swing to her hips. It was wrong, but she wanted him to look at her. As she stepped into the confessional she glanced back at him and her breath caught in her throat.He hadn't moved, was still standing by the last pew. But he was eating her with his eyes. His lips slightly parted and his face slack with desire. He saw her look and his jaw clenched. She licked her bottom lip at him and began unbuttoning her blouse as she disappeared behind the confessional curtain.What the hell was she thinking? Was she really coming on to a priest? She turned away from the curtain, shaking her head and.
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