First Class Mail Indeed

I luv bald. Men in uniforms make me randy. Put a punishing, insurgent-slaying weapon in his hand like that S.A.W., and mah panties get wet. Send him to the sands of Iraq to command a Bradley, and to watch our collective backsides? He's got my un-dying support.
That's my buddy K. I was honored to send him "comfort paks" throughout his deployment to the "sandbox". He never asked me for chit. "I don't NEED anything. I'm an infantryman." He did however, hint in one of our yahooin' convos that he wouldn't turn down a ummmm....errrr...."hand-held-gurlfriend".
Now me, being tha gosh-darndest "adoptor"that I am, I skipped gleefully ova to tha adult store where I proceeded to torment the eva lovin' crap outta tha twentish, male clerk behind the counter.
"Excuse me. Where are the pocket pussies?" I'm not sure, but I think that lovely, young, chocolate man achieved some degree of Angloism in the blink of an eye.
"Over there", and he gestured with the sweep of his hand.
On no, sweetpea. You don't get off that easy.
"Can u assist me in making my selection?"
I know all 'bout tha pussy, bein the proud owner of one, but wut tha hell do I know 'bout the pocket variety???
He sighed audibly, but followed me nevertheless.
"Does this one come in pink? Does this one feel realistic? What's the battery time on this one?" There was some conversation about the benefits of furried ones versus those with lil balls nestled inside, but honestly I was just enjoying his technicolored complection.
I made my selection, nabbed a spank mag or two, found a porn film that met with K.'s proclivities, and left the clerk to stew in rightous indignation. I'd already picked up some Astro-glide, and some other "theme -oriented goodies", so I packed it all up, taped it like Godzilla would be handling it ( cause he does), and dropped it off at the post.
EXACTLY 10 days later I hear the distinct "bliiiiing" of an incoming message on yahoo. It was K.
"Ask me 'bout tha day that I had."
"Awwww. Did u have ta smoosh some of those naughty AK-totin' hajis wiff yer purdy Brad?"
"Nope, but I did get called to my C.O.'s office."
Apparently, some idjits from the states had been sendin drugs ova thar, so the platoon leader had taken orders from higher to do random checks for contraband. K.'s box was next.
Oh shit.
The C.O. asked him to open tha box and swing it round for inspection. The first thing he plucked from the box was the Astro-glide.
"And, what might this be for?"
"I'm sure I don't know, sir."
The C.O. poked around a lil more in tha box before walking to the door, and bellowing to anyone within earshot to , "Come and see what Sgt. K. has gotten in the mail!"
Oh fuk.
To make a long story short, he didn't get into any trouble, although he musta been a tad embarrassed. After offering the C.O. one of the spank mags, he was told to "Get that shit outta my office!", and made treadmarks.
Thank Gawd I didn't tuck in any of them lil bottles of vodka.