"Give me my fantasy? I didn't have any fantasies. Why in the hell hadn't I been able to make her understand that? I sat in the booth another hour waiting for her to come back and then I went out to the car and waited another forty-five minutes before I accepted the fact that she wasn't coming back.As I drove home to Denver alone I thought back to how it all had started. It had been my birthday and my younger brother Ron had given me a subscription to Penthouse Letters. I really had no interest in the magazine or it's content, but when the issues began to arrive I read them. I didn't believe for one minute that the letters in the magazine were real or if they were they were written by idiots. Real people didn't say things like "magnificent fuck stick" or "marvelous meat pole." And none of the people were ugly or ordinary looking; everyone had larger than average cocks and the women were all drop dead gorgeous. They were good for a laugh and so I generally read most of the issue before. "Can't," I said. "I know Cap'n Foster won't 'llow it. He's death on camp followers. Says we get enough when we stop 'thout having any along the way. Don't reckon you could scout or spy. Did Gen'l PIckens toss you out his militia?"She nodded, "Cussed me too. Don' know why I couldn't be some use as a spy up in Virginia. I ride 'most as good as you do." You ain't the only woman that's been in this here fight," I told her. "Bet a dozen or more's in the army right now an' Gates, Greene, George Washington, none a'them knows it. Up in New Jersey one a'them served her man's cannon when he got shot. But if any a'them found out a soldier was a female, out she'd go." Ain't easy, you know," she said, pushing a smile. "You're a smelly lot."I laughed, "We are, aren't we. Not many baths taken this winter, that's for sure." Men in my company," she said, brightening, "I ain't seen nary a one of them dunked 'cept when it rained, not ever. Never saw 'em undressed, jus' pissing. One feller tole me he.
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