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Soldiers

By: rikkitampa2014



July, 1944 – Based on a True Story

The two of us got detached from our unit. We spent a day and a half wandering through woods and across clearings. The sounds of war were distant from us, to the north.

We came across a farmhouse. It was abandoned. We checked every room, including the cellar. There were bottles of homemade wine in the cellar. We opened one and sat at the kitchen table drinking out of small glasses and getting drunk. For a little while, at least, thoughts of war and death left us.

There was no running water but there was a well. We took turns hauling the wooden bucket up the well and inside the farmhouse. The tub was on the second floor. My newfound friend would stand naked in the tub and I would douse him water. Then he would soap up while I was fetching another bucket and I would rinse him off. Then he did the same for me. The water was freezing but that didn't stop both of us from getting hard ons.

I reached out and put my hand around his. "Hey, what gives?" he asked. "You're not queer are you?" But we were both just drunk enough not to care much. We hadn't had a proper bath in weeks and we were both young men, barely out of our teens. We were horny soldiers. He shot his load in the bottom of the tub. Then he knocked my hand away.

"Don't expect that from me," he said.

"What, you never had a hand-job before?"

"Not from a guy."

"What's the difference?"

"A big fucking difference! One's queer and the other's not!"

"A hand's a hand..."

"Three million men in this fucking army and I gotta get hooked up with a queer."

"I'm not queer," I protested.

"What are you then?"

"Happy. Happy not to be getting shot at."

"Go get another bucket and wash my junk down the drain. 'fore I fucking step in it. Disgusting!"

On the second day, another bottle of homemade wine in our guts, I climbed in the tub with him and doused both our naked bodies. We soaped each other up. I stood behind him and rubbed my cock against his ass as I stroked him.

"Just so long you don't try to stick that thing in me," he said.

"I wish!"

"I don't." Then, after a pause: "You done this sort of thing before?"

"With another man, you mean?"

"Yeah."

"At the university," I replied.

"You went to college?"

"Two years. Before I got drafted."

"Fuck me," he mused. "A college boy..."

I came quickly, against his soaped right buttock. He came not long after in the bottom of the tub again. "Goddamn!" he shouted this time. Then I was dispatched to get another bucket of cold, cleansing well-water. He was a corporal, I was a lowly private after all.

Later, we sat at the table drinking wine and eating our rations.

"At some point here soon," he said, "we're going to have to head out and try to find our unit."

"Why?"

"Fucking why?"

"I could spend the rest of the war here."

He laughed. "That could be a long fucking time. And I think we'll run out of rations before that. Though," he added, "I guess we could start shooting those fucking chickens," gesturing in the direction of a farmyard's distant cackling.

"They're laying hens," I said. "As long as they're alive we have an endless supply of eggs."

"What about fucking bacon?"

I smiled. "Haven't seen any hogs around, unfortunately."

He filled his small glass with wine. Then mine. It was pale magenta in color. "Yeah, well, I can only stomach so many omelets. And what's those other things called? Capes? Drapes?"

"Crepes?"

"Them things. I had one once. Fucking delicious."

"I can fry eggs," I said, "but I don't know how to make a fucking crepe."

He grinned at me, his teeth stained purple from the wine. "Son of a bitch! That's the first time I ever heard you swear."

"It's from hanging around you all the time."

He laughed. We drank and ate and laughed together at the kitchen table. A warm sensation washed over me.

Day three. Amazingly enough—or maybe not so amazing—we were still tramping around in our army uniforms. Our bodies were clean but our uniforms were filthy; they stank. We searched the farmhouse bedrooms and discovered drawers and closets full of clothes. Clean farmers' clothes.

"Must've left in a hurry," he observed. "Which is what we should be doing."

I'd opened a chest and discovered a drawerful of ladies' undies. White cotton. I tossed a panty at the corporal, who caught it in midair.

"What am I supposed to do with this, sniff it?"

"Wear it." I was already dropping my pants.

"What? I ain't wearin' these!"

"Fine then. Keep your stinking military issue on."

He tossed the panty back at me. It fell to the wood floor like a wounded bird.

"I have to admit...," he said seconds later, half-mockingly. At least I think the corporal was mocking me. "You look kinda cute in those."

I grinned and thrust my chest out. The elastic waist of the white panty came all the way up to my navel.

"You ain't really keepin' them on, are you?"

"I am," I said. "They're clean and they smell like the sun. Reminds me of home. And mom."

"You really are a fucking perv," he said.

We had sex, such as it was, on the nearby bed. It was sudden, unexpected and uncontrollable. It was borderline violent.

With my pants down around my ankles the corporal pinned me to the bed on my belly. He rubbed against me and came quickly, explosively on my pantied ass, and up my spine nearly to the shoulder blades. The rubbing motion left a mark.

He climbed off of me just as suddenly, panting. "You're gonna need a new pair of panties, faggot," he said. "Them ones ain't clean no more."

Day four and we were still alone in the world, seemingly. Us and the chickens, less one. The previous evening the corporal had insisted on shooting one. I winced. Not about the chicken, I'd seen too much human death the past six months to despair about a lowly chicken; no, I winced because of the telltale noise of the rifle shot. He plucked it, I cooked it in homemade wine and some dried herbs. It was fucking delicious, I must admit.

But on this new day we discovered that, in the barn's loft, if you opened the west-facing doors at a certain time of the afternoon, the sun bathed the old, stale hay in light and warmth. We made beds of it and lay naked on it. I shielded my eyes and looked over at his penis, beautiful in the light and swelling before my very eyes, and rising. I rolled over onto him.

"What are you doing?"

I took it in my hand and lowered my mouth to it. His back arched. "Oh, God!"

To my surprise, minutes into the pleasure I was giving him, the corporal slapped my naked flank. Twice. Finally catching on, I moved to my right until I was straddling him. He rose up and took my erection in his mouth. We made love in the afternoon sunlight.

"Teeth!" I cried.

"Sorry. I'm not a certified faggot like you."

He came in me and I swallowed. I came in him, moments later, and it produced a paroxysm. He turned his face aside and spit. He shoved my naked body aside. He even swung a fist, I think.

"Jesus, fuck!" he said, still spitting. "Don't you ever do that again!"

"What did you think I was going to do?"

"Asshole! I oughta beat the shit out of you! Motherfucker! God!"

The corporal drank from the wine bottle we'd brought to the loft and spit it out onto the stale hay. He washed his mouth and spit again. Then he drank.

I kneeled a few feet away on the hay, out of the sunlight. I was apprehensive, afraid.

"I'm your superior," he said, bottle at his lips. "I could shoot you for that!"

"For what?"

He tossed the empty bottle at me. He missed. It was a half-hearted effort. I watched him retreat down the ladder, naked. I felt utterly lost.

Later, in a much calmer space, we ate fresh eggs fried without butter in a cast-iron pan. We drank wine. It was running low. He looked up.

"Do you like the taste?"

"Of what?" I still had a bitter taste in my mouth, about him.

"Junk?"

I shrugged. "Oui."

"It's disgusting. That's how come I reacted that way."

"No it's not," I said. "It's like sweet cream."

"No it's not." He banged fist to table. "I would fucking kill for cream in a cup of coffee. Real coffee not that half-ass shit they serve us in canteen."

"After the war," I said. "Or unless a milk cow turns up."

He laughed heartily. I distrusted him now, however. He'd threatened to shoot me. Hitler had been a corporal.

Day four at the farmhouse. Or was it day five? They were all running together.

I was standing naked in the tub on the second floor, thinning soap bar in hand, waiting to be doused. To his credit, it was the corporal's turn to fetch the water first.

I heard rapid thumps on the stairs. My companion, and lover, arrived out of breath. He dropped the wood bucket, most of the water spilling out of it, and climbed onto the rim of the tub. There was a narrow rectangular window above, emitting light.

"What's the matter?"

He was up on his toes, peering out. "I saw soldiers, coming this way. I think they may've spotted me."

"Ours or theirs?"

"I couldn't tell. Too far away. Let's go," he said, climbing down. "Take your clothes. And your pistol."

"Where?"

"The cellar. I'm not being taken prisoner," he said. "If it's our troops, they'll line us up against the wall and shoot us. As fucking deserters. If it's theirs they'll shoot us where we stand. Word is they aren't taking any prisoners..."

I followed him to the cellar. He wasn't making any sense.

"I thought you said you didn't want to be taken prisoner?"

"I don't! Word is they send you off to camps. Slave-labor camps. I'm nobody's fucking slave. I'll kill myself first."

Reluctantly, I bolted the cellar door behind us. I was reluctant because I wasn't sure the corporal hadn't turned out to be some kind of lunatic. He sat on a pile of grain sacks, near the wine rack. I sat beside him. He pulled his pistol from his waistband and put the barrel to his right temple. I was seated to the left of him, still naked from the aborted bath.

"Do like I do," he said. "That's an order. Believe me, it'll be better this way. Put your Luger to your head. On the count of three. We'll go out together..."

My head was spinning. I was sitting naked on a pile of sacks in a farmer's basement. A man—a corporal—was telling me—ordering me—to commit suicide. Just a day ago his beautiful cock had been in my mouth. I swallowed his cum. It had been delicious. Why couldn't the world stand still? Or simply leave us alone?

I put my pistol to my temple, despite myself.

"One...two...three--"

The explosion concussed my eardrums. I fell over to my right. I assumed I was dead. I was still in the farmhouse basement but I had entered an alternative state. Heaven? Hell? Some form of afterlife?

With my ears still ringing I looked over to my left. The corporal had put a bullet through his right temple. He had fallen over. Blood trickled out but otherwise it was a clean wound.

I felt my own left temple. It was dry. I looked down the barrel of my pistol. I raised it and fired at the cellar wall. Nothing. Click-click. The weapon had jammed. Irrationally I thought: What if I'd been firing at the enemy? I'd be dead now!

I tossed my pistol at the wall. I picked up the corporal's, which had tumbled from his hand to the floor. I heard voices outside, shouts.

I dressed, quickly. I stuffed the corporal's pistol into his waistband and dragged him over to the pile of cellar coal. I shoveled it over him the best I could and then covered the body with the grain sacks we'd sat on. I found my jammed pistol and shoved it deep into a crack in the brick wall.

I climbed the cellar stairs and unbarred the door, expecting to be shot. On sight. But the kitchen was empty.

I exited the front door, in my farmer's clothes with my hands raised, and was met with a hail of shouts. Dozens of rifles were pointed me. On order, one hunched-over soldier carrying a machine gun came running forward and patted my body down.

"Who are you?" someone shouted. Out of nowhere a rifle butt hit me on the side of the head, knocking me to my knees. I thought about the corporal and I in the barn that previous day, after we'd cum in each other's mouths. The warming sunlight. The bliss. Now blood trickled down my face. I could taste it. I stood up. Someone in charge came running over. My vision was blurry. A lieutenant?

"Do you live here?" he asked. "Understand? Verstehen Sie?"

I shook my head. I pointed at my mouth. Received another rifle butt for my troubles.

I rose again, unsteadily. I pointed at my open mouth. Held out an open palm and made a scribbling motion on it. The lieutenant called someone forward. "Frenchy! Get the fuck up here!"

The private pulled out paper and a stubby pencil. I knew enough French to write: Muet.

The translator looked at his officer. "I guess this is his farm. He lives here. Says he's mute."

"What?"

"Mute. So he says."

"Tell him...," the kindly officer said, "he can't stay here. It's too dangerous. He needs to come with us."

"Yessir."

I knew English far better than French. And, frankly, the translator's words were largely incomprehensible to me. But I nodded, and smiled, with blood running down my face. A medic was called over. He patched me up. I was grateful. We moved out the next morning. They let me walk as a free man.

It takes great discipline to play the mute. Thankfully my captors never put me to the test.

It would be some nine months before I spoke again. Another soldier was fucking me, in a town called Malmedy. 

"I thought you were a mute?" he said, after cumming inside me to my screams. And his.

"I'm cured," I claimed, in broken French. I was out of breath. "You cured me!"

Soldier's Coming Home



It was four o'clock in the afternoon with the sultry heat rising in the air as it always did during the summer in Louisiana near the marsh and swamp lands. The air was still and the lake was as still as glass. Sarah Weathers sighed and stood from her rocking chair on her back porch and walked inside, her mind drifting to another time and another place. Most people spent their whole lives trying to leave here, and Sarah had been one of then. But she never had been as happy as when her husband Jeff had been stationed at the nearby Ft. Polk, three years before. It had been like a coming home.

Walking inside, she stopped for a moment near the window fan and closed her eyes, letting it cook the sweat that had formed across her face and neck. It felt nice and cool and she smiled softly to herself. For just a moment, she was lost in time and she could feel Jeff's hands on her, softly caressing her. The love that she felt still reverberated and a soft shiver flowed down her spine, warming her with a tingly soft feeling. God, how I miss him, she thought to herself.

It was a sad look in her eyes when they opened and a small tear formed in the corner as Sarah shook her head and walked inside to the family room. It was the same time every day. There was an American flag and pictures of her family. Some were just of Jeff. Some were of both of them. They had always talked of having more kids, but never were able to. Maybe, she thought, I wouldn't be so lonely, if we were able to have kids.

She passed a picture of her husband Jeff wearing desert fatigues and his green beret. She always recognized his eyes, a little rambunctious, a little mischievous, but always warm and full of emotion. It was his passion that had first attracted her to him. "Kandahar, Afghanistan, A-504," the back of the picture read, Sara memorized. The man in the picture was dirty with a two-week old beard on the face and wearing a long flowing jacket. What a stark contrast the rifle and the pale skin looked against the jacket and the round hat on his head. It's the eyes, she said to herself. I'll always know his eyes.

Wiping a tear away, she went to the small wooden chest that sat on the floor and knelt down softly. Opening it, she breathed deeply. It was a tradition that she had formed over the past few months. She was an army wife waiting for her soldier to come home. With shaking hands she removed the stack of letters that she had received. It was her way to remain connected to him. When Sarah read the words, she could hear his voice. She could see his face. She could feel his touch. And for that moment in time, he wasn't gone. The man that she loved so deeply and so completely was right there with him.

Taking the stack of letters, she walked over to a soft well worn chair near the window and sat down with the envelopes on her lap. It was his chair. No matter where he was, she thought to herself, it would always be his chair. Methodically, she moved the top letter to the bottom. They had a certain order, Sarah said to herself. You have to follow the order, she thought. 

The next letter, she nodded as she read the date. Yes, this is the one, she thought with a smile. She could see his face. Her breath caught as she began to read the words...

"My dearest Sarah,

Words can't describe how much I miss you. I'm sitting here on this mountaintop and yet a part of me is home with you, will always be home with you. As night falls on this lonely place, I look up at the stars and it dawns on me that I never realized how many starts that there really are in the sky. How funny it is what one sees what one is not near the big city or all the lights. But, I look up to the stars and realize that they are the same stars that you are looking up at. Then I close my eyes and know that it will be all right.

This isn't my first time in combat, my darling wife. But something is different about this battlefield, something substantial is altered. I cannot feel it, I cannot define it and yet it is just as tangible as the bullets that we fire or the pain we feel in our legs when we march into the mountains. We may be here in Afghanistan, yet we know that what we are fighting for is farther away. What we are fighting for is at home. It is in the houses on Main Street, USA. It is in the offices, in the fire stations and in the restaurants. What we are fighting for is not here in the mountains. It is across the sea, there, at home.

I won't lie to you, dear wife. I feel fear every time I go out into the field. There is this deep ball of fear, excitement and adrenaline combined down in the pit of my stomach that I can't seem to shake. I wonder if the fear makes me coward. Or does the fear make me all the more real. Does it make the mission and our sense of duty all the more real, tangible? Someone once said that there can't be courage without fear. I guess he was right because we have a lot fear here in the mountains.

Remember when we first moved to Louisiana? You were so happy to be going home. I couldn't believe how ecstatic that you were. Being a mountain man from Colorado it felt like I was moving to a foreign country or something. I was so miserable. We used to fight so much because I was so worried about the bills and the fighting and the job and everything else that didn't matter. But none of that matters anymore.

I'm coming home soon, wife of mine. I'm coming home for good. I've heard the lives rounds snapping past my head enough. I've fought enough battles and enough wars. When I come home this time, I'll be coming home for good. I know you'll be waiting for me when I get there.

I have to go into the field in a few days, but this should be our last operation. Then we'll be on our way home. I burn for you, wife. I burn for your touch. I'll see you in my dreams.

Always,

Jeffrey"

"God, how I miss you, Jeffrey," Sarah whimpered as the tears flowed freely. She crumpled the letter, no longer caring about it as her shoulders shook. She wept and wept as if silently wishing that it would bring him home. "I miss you."

She didn't know if she had wept for five minutes or five hours. But however long it had been, Sarah had felt her touch, seen his face, heard his voice. His smile was indelibly burned into her brain and as much as it hurt, she couldn't help but smile. Jeff always knew how to make her smile. There were enough smiles and enough love to last a lifetime. It filled her. It consumed her.

Taking a deep breath, Sarah found the letter that she had moved off the top. She touched the return address wishing that she could make it go away. Closing her eyes, a lone tear ran down her cheek but she didn't sob. She opened the letter and read the words silently.

"Dear Mrs. Weathers:

It's with a heavy heart that I write you this letter. I was your husband's commanding officer and I felt the need to write personally in order to tell you how sorry I am for your loss. By now you have received the telegram and already know that he is gone, but you also have the right to know how he died.

Jeff was a very courageous man, whose loss was be felt by all of us. He died doing what he loved, for the people that he loved. He had I had come from the same area and we often talked. He spoke very fondly of you and looked forward to retiring upon returning home after this deployment. He loved you very much and never passed up an opportunity to tell us what a great woman you are. I know I can't begin to comprehend the pain that you must feel right now.

He gave his life for his team mates. It was the last operation of the deployment before we rotated home, and he was the team's medic for the patrol that was supposed to last less than two weeks. Four days into the patrol, we were ambushed and started taking fire from all sides. Three of us were wounded immediately, including myself. Jeff ran to me and pulled me to safety. Your husband patched me up and left me to go find the other wounded. He was a hero, Mrs. Weathers. Jesus said in John 15:13, that 'greater love hath no man than this, to lay down his life for his friend.' Jeff did just that.

Running out into the open taking a lot of fire, Jeff tried to reach the last of the wounded men. I saw him wounded, but he kept going. He wouldn't stop. He reached the downed man and pulled him to safety but was wounded again. Your husband killed the enemy and patched his wounded teammate up under a hail of bullets. An enemy mortar round fell into his position a few minutes later.

I can't describe the loss that we feel without your husband with us. He gave his life for us. We all feel empty. He save our lives and he'll always be remembered. Someone once said that patriotism is not singing a song in the streets, or reciting a speech on a national holiday. Patriotism is enduring great pain for your country, standing up for what one believes in no matter the cost, or the price. Patriotism is an act, an act of selfless sacrifice and courage that will live on even in death. Your husband was a patriot, Mrs. Weathers. Know that he loved his country. And that he loved you more.

His spirit will live on and will never die. He will never be forgotten.

With regards,

Brian Ainsley
CPT, US Army"

Closing the letter up, Sarah wiped the tears from her cheek and took a deep breath. She couldn't believe that he was gone. Part of him would never be gone. Jeff would always be there. In his favorite chair. In the bed frame that she slept in that he had made by hand. In the roof and the porch that he had repaired. In the car that he had picked out. He was there. Jeff would always be there.

Standing up, Sarah replaced the letters in the chest and then stopped by the folded flag. The pillow next to it had his medals pinned to it. Behind the pillow was a picture of Jeff, wearing his green beret and his rakish, mischievous smile. She touched the picture with a soft smile curling her lips, knowing that yes, he was still here.

Turning around, Sarah Weathers walked out to the front porch and sat in the wooden rocking chair that Jeff had built. 

She was waiting for her soldier to come home.

When I am gone do not cry for me
For I am always there, though you may not see
I am in the shadows, the darkness
I am the glimmer of light when the moon grows dim
I am the shimmering moon when you fear the unknown
Do not cry for what is gone, for I am always with you
I am in your heart and in your mind
So how can I ever be gone from you
In the darkness of the night that nay will end
In the shadows of the fear on the road that you tread
I am there, watching o'er the love of my life
I am present in your strength the quiet confidence you take
Do not fear for I am always there as long as you believe
When you laugh you will see my quiet smile
When you cry you will feel my tender touch on your cheek
When you are afraid I am that quiet confident smile you know
I am never gone even though I am not there with you
Do not cry for me, wasted tears will not bring me back
Though my body may die, my spirit never will
Just believe, you must believe in your heart
For when I am gone, I am always there in your heart
Do not cry for me

This story is dedicated to all the families who have lost a loved one in the Global War On Terrorism. Though they may be gone, they are never forgotten. Their light will always shine on for us, lighting the way with their courage, fidelity and honor. They drew a line in the sand and would not let it be crossed...They are the ghosts of war...

Always,

James R. G.
Chief Petty Office
US Navy Reserve 



Soldiers' Luck



"You did not say that!" Sykes said with a giggle as we walked arm in arm back to her apartment.

"I didn't know what else to say!" I said back through my laughter.

We walked on, laughing together. It was a chilly Friday night, so we walked close, savoring each others body heat. It had been another wonderful evening spent laughing and talking. I was sad knowing it would be ending soon. My laughter trailed off as I thought how little time we had to be together.

Sykes and I had been seeing each other for about two weeks now. I had been moved to the Fort she was on temporarily for some training, and we had met through a mutual friend. When I first saw her I knew I had to see her again. I hadn't planned on seeing anyone while I was there, but she had been too alluring. Her intoxicating laugh, and her quick wit snared me as tightly as any trap, and she didn't even know it.

She was beautiful, with long blonde hair and vibrant green eyes. Her skin was a delicate white sheet, occasionally marked with tattoo's of her own design. On her right breast was a rose circling her nipple, where it blossomed. I had not seen it, but she had shown me her sketches of it. Her art was incredible, and I could only imagine what it looked on her full breasts.

Sykes stood about 5'6", which was perfect for me as I was only 5'9". Her breasts where large, but very firm. They stood out proudly from her chest, no matter how much she tried to hide them. Her hips curved in, and flared out perfectly to her round and toned ass. It was like her body had been painted by the Gods, and excruciating detail taken with ever inch of her.

She suddenly noticed I wasn't laughing any more, and I could see the concern in her eyes. We walked in silence for a moment. I searched hard for the right thing to say, but nothing came to me. How could I tell her that I thought there was something more to us? Especially since I was leaving in a few days, and I would probably never see her again.

Suddenly she stopped, and pulled me to face her. We stood staring into each others eyes for sometimes. I pulled her close, and hugged her fiercely. She held me just as tightly. When we let go, we interlaced our fingers and walked on together. I felt the words I wanted to say get caught in my throat.

"When are you supposed leave?" She said finally in a very quiet voice.

"Monday evening." I replied.

I knew that with every step I lost time to say what I needed to say. Would I be able to leave knowing I hadn't even tried to tell her? I knew that if I didn't tell her how I felt in my heart, I would regret it for the rest of my life.

"Sykes, there's...something I want to tell you." I said hesitatingly.

She looked at me from the corner of her eye, but said nothing.

"This short time we've had together has meant so much to me. Every minute I'm with you I've been so happy. It was the best luck I've had in a long time to meet you."

We turned a corner and her apartment building loomed into view. I could almost hear the clock ticking away.

"I know that we hardly know each other, and we've only gone on a few dates," which was true, but we still had spent all our free time together, "and I know I'm leaving soon. But I think that...."

Suddenly my words failed me. I felt my throat clench like a fist, and I couldn't say another word. Sykes was watching me intently. Her eyes shown with, interest? Disappointment? Apathy? We started the walk up to her floor, and I could hear that clock ticking faster. My heart was beating out of my chest. The air suddenly didn't seem so chilly.

"I know how you feel Andrew." Sykes said to me.

I tripped on the step, and I heard her giggle as I quickly regained my balance. I looked at her, and she had a small secretive on her face. We walked on in silence. When we cleared the next landing, I saw her door. To me it looked like the back of a book. It signaled the end. I let out a defeated sigh, and felt my heart drop.

When we made it to her door, she stepped up to it, and turned to face me. As casual as could be she leaned against her door and watched me. I stumbled over my own tongue, trying to say everything at once.

"Sykes I really like you, and well I mean more than like, and I want to keep seeing you, but I'm leaving, and I know it won't work, well I mean it could, but you know what I mean and I..." I said in breathy rush.

I could see her fighting the urge to laugh, and a slight smile kept slipping on her face. I just let the words trail off, feeling even worse than if I had been shot down.

"Andrew, you're trying to hard. I already told you, I know how you feel. And feel that way too." She said, and her smile widened and filled her beautiful face.

"Sykes, I really care about you, more than just some dates can explain. I want to keep seeing you, and I want to be with you." I said very quietly.

Her eyes shone brightly, and she reached out and scratched the side of my head. I loved her finger nails, and how she tenderly drug them across my scalp. As if it where the most natural thing on earth, I leaned in to kiss her. Then I felt her other hand grab my groin. It was firm, not unpleasant, but I knew it could become very unpleasant.

"If you're going to do this, do it right. And don't start what you won't finish." She said quietly, and I could feel her nails dig slightly into my skin. Her other hand slowly began massaging my balls, still with her firm grip.

I gave her the most passionate kiss I could muster. Her lips where wonderfully soft, and parted easily as my tongue slide past them. Her kiss was just like her hands, firm but gentle. The whole time her hand slowly worked my balls as my cock began to harden. When I finally pulled away, we where both breathing quickly.

"Is that the best you can do?" She said as her chest heaved.

Taking a queue from her, I grabbed her hair, gently but firmly, and pulled her hair back slightly and kissed her again. This time when I pulled back she whispered very quietly in my ear...

"I think we should go inside."

She released my balls and turned quickly to unlock her door. I placed my hands on her hips and kissed the back of her neck, and caressed her stomach and legs. With a small curse she fumbled with her keys, and finally the door flew open. I'd barely made it in when she quickly slammed it behind me.

We embraced again, holding each other close, probing one another's mouths hungrily. She drug her nails on my skin, sending little shocks throughout my whole body. My hand once again found her hair, and as we kissed I could feel her teeth occasionally nip at my lips and tongue. 

Some how we managed to work out way into the living room, and onto the couch. Sykes pushed me back, and climbed on top of me. She kissed my neck, throat and lips with such passion. I felt her teeth gently sink into my skin, sending more shocks through me. I grabbed her hips and she drove my excitement to heights I had never experienced before.

Slowly her hips started grinding against me, and I could feel her hands rub against my back. She sat back, and without stopping her grinding pulled her shirt over her head. Her sports bra pushed her breasts up, exposing a wonderful amount of cleavage. She started to fumble with a clasp in the back, but I had other plans. Within a second, I had pulled my knife out and cut the middle of bra, and her breasts sprang free, bouncing happily.

I heard her gasp as the fabric of her bra where sliced through, but her smile told me she enjoyed the action as much as I did. She slid the bra from her shoulders, which thrust her breasts out even more. I stared at those perfect globes. Despite their size they didn't sag at all, and they where perfectly shaped.

Realizing I was over dressed, I sat up slightly to make room to take my shirt off, but Sykes beat me to it. With one quick motion she grabbed my collar and tore the shirt in half. She pulled it down, trapping my arms at my side. Then she returned to her teasings, kissing and bite around my mouth and neck. The way her warm lips searched my skin, only to immediately feel her teeth nip at the most sensitive areas was driving me wild.

Her breasts rubbed against my chest, and I could feel a cold sensation as she moved. When I glanced down, sure enough her nipples where pierced, and her tattoo seemed to accentuate the piercing to an even greater degree. While I struggled to free my arms from my shirt, her hands roamed across my chest. She would caress me with her silky palms, and the rake her nails across my abs, and tease my nipples in a way I had never known.

Finally, after what seemed like a life time, I worked my arms free. I reached up a grabbed her hair, and rolled to side put her on the couch, and me in control. Sykes gasped as I did this, and tried to resist. I grabbed her arms and pulled them over her head. Using one hand I held them there. She continued to struggle, even as I kissed her again. Her kiss seemed to be even more wild than before. I bit her lips and teased her with my tongue.

With slow deliberate kisses, I worked around her neck, sometimes kissing, sometimes biting, and sometimes just letting my hot breath tickle her skin. I heard her moan as I reached her collarbone, and began working on her chest. Her breasts rose to meet my mouth , and she offered her nipple to my attention. I studiously avoided it. I teased around her breasts, making sure to get every inch of the, accept the nipples. She moaned and arched her back, trying to entice me to her nipples.

I left her nipples untouched though, and slow kissed down to her belly button. Her stomach was flat and smooth, and I could feel her well toned abs as I kissed and nipped at her skin. Finally I released her hands expecting her to try to take back control, but her hands merely drifted down to my head. She grazed my scalp with her nails, undoubtly leaving red marks.

Continue my downward travels, I came to the edge of her jeans. I undid the button, and took the zipper in my teeth. She looked down at me, as I slowly unzipped her jeans. Her back arched and she moaned loudly as I let my hot breath cascade across her covered pussy. I tugged at her jeans, pulling them all the way down, and carefully removed them from her.

As I worked my way back up to her pussy, I kissed and caressed her legs. I moved slowly up, slowing down even more the closer I got to most sensitive area. She squirmed and moved, trying to get me to her pussy quicker. When I thought I had teased her enough, I reached up and hooked a finger into her panties, and she arched her back allowing me to pull them down.

Her pussy was already wet, and very warm. I breathed in her scent. It was sweet and musty, and just filled me with desire. As my tongue touched her, she tasted as wonderful as she smelled. I ran my tongue up and down her pussy, tasting all of her, and gently parting her lips. Her hands caressed my head, and encouraged me to do more.

I worked up towards the top of her pussy, and after a short search found her clitoris. I knew I had hit it when I felt her nails dig into my head, and she moaned loudly.

"Oh god yes, right there Andrew." She said as my tongue made slow circles around her clit.

As I worked her clit, I caressed her pussy with my hand. She spread her legs wider, inviting me to enter her. I gently slide one finger into her, and then another. With a steady rhythm I slowly fingered her as I teased and licked her clit. As her breathing quickened, so did my pace.

"Hm god yes Andrew, keeping going." Sykes moaned loudly, and her hands pressed my face down against her.

Her hips ground against my face, and her hands held my face there. I wanted to give her the most mind blowing orgasm I could, so I sped my pace up even more. She matched my rhythm perfectly, but it still wasn't enough.

"Uh, I'm so close, I'm so close to cumming." She said with a slight note of strain in her voice.

I sped up more, and inserted another finger into her pussy, but it still wasn't enough. She was on the edging and needed just one little push to get over. With infinity care, I gently nipped lightly at her bud. That was the last bit needed, and I felt her orgasm crash into her. Her pussy contracted like a vice in my fingers, and her nails scratched me to the point they almost drew blood.

When she finally released her grip on my head, I gave her clit a few last licks, and pulled my fingers out of her pussy. I sat on the couch next to her, and watched her gasp for breath. The sight of her breasts covered in sweat was truly mesmerizing. She took the hand that I had used to finger her and brought it to her lips. Her tongue felt like velvet as she tenderly cleaned her juices from my hand. When she was finished I kissed her again, caressing her breasts, and finally teasing her nipples.

Sykes pushed me back again, and straddled me. She leaned in next to me and whispered in my ear, "Now its my turn."

Much as I had done with her, she worked her way down my body, kissing and biting. She played with my nipples, pinching them and biting them. At times almost to pain, but it was one of the most delicious sensations I had ever experienced. She lightly kissed my abs and belly button, and soon had made her way to my jeans.

She layed her head on my leg and caressed my thigh, always stopping barely before my groin, before starting back down. I could almost feel her breath on my leg. Occasionaly she would drag her nails down my leg, and I would arch forward, desperately try to get her to touch my cock/

"What, is there something you want me to do?" She said in a sultry voice.

"Please...please..." I stuttered.

"Do you want me to do this?" She said as she slowly worked her hand across my cock to my button.

I nodded, not being able to speak. Her hand slowly undid the clasp of my pants, and then she suddenly tore the zipper down. The sudden ferocity made me breath in. I offered little resistance as she pulled my pants and underwear down in one motion. My cock sprang free, and bobbled slightly.

Sykes slide her nails up my leg, causing my cock to jerk. She let out a low sultry laugh as I gasped and moaned. She held her head over my cock, letting her silky hair cascade across my cock. Her hot breath causing my cock to twitch, and made me writhe in anticipation. I ran my fingers through her head, and moaned her name when I could find my voice.

After what felt like a lifetime, I felt her mouth getting closer to my cock. I arched my hips desperately to get it there quicker. I was well rewarded when I felt her warm lips kiss the tip of my dick. It felt like lightening had just struck me. Slowly she ran her tongue up and down the length of my cock, covering it in saliva. One of her hands started slowly massaging my balls, with the same firm pressure she had earlier. When she finally took the head of my cock into her mouth, I was in total ecstasy.

I watched as Sykes slowly inched down my cock. It was the most incredible feeling I had ever felt. Her mouth was so hot and wet. When she got about half way on my cock she slowly moved her way back up. I felt her teeth ever so lightly graze the skin on the underside of my cock. I groaned loudly and leaned my head back. It never hurt, but cause a sensation like I'd never felt before.

When she was back to the head of my cock, she began slowly stroking it with her other hand, and licked around the head of my cock. She tossed her hair back, and looked at me. The way her big eyes looked up at me, how she was holding my cock, I nearly lost it.

"If you thought that was good..." She said with a small smile on her face.

Wondering what she could do to top her last trick, I watched intently. Her mouth once again engulfed my cock. This time when she got half way on my cock, she kept going. The feeling of her warm mouth sliding all the way down my cock was so good, I couldn't even gasp for breath. She held my entire cock in her mouth for a second, before slowly pulling all the way back up and started stroking my cock again.

"Don't be afraid to get a little rough with me Andrew." Sykes said with devilish smile on her face.

She went back to working my cock with her mouth. Her hands caressed my balls, and stroke my cock in a steady rhythm. Her mouth bobbed on my cock, and once again she surprised. I felt a low rumble in her throat, and it was like she was purring around my cock. I grasped her head, and sped her pace up. She responded willing and sucked my cock with greater vigor. I knew my orgasm was coming soon.

"Hun, I'm going to cum soon if you keep this up." I said in breathy voice.

"That's the idea silly," She said as she popped my cock from her mouth. She sat back, but continued to stroke my cock, "Where do you wanna cum? On my face, in my mouth, or all over my tits?" She squeezed her arms together, pushing her breasts up even more.

"Oh god, on your tits" I moaned.

Her stroking quickened, and she kept talking dirty to me. I watched her tits jiggle and bounce with her pumpings. It wouldn't be long before I came.

"Come on baby, cum all over my big tits. I want you to cum for me, cum all over me."

She leaned forward again, and put her tits on either side of my cock. She pushed them together with her hands, and started tit fucking me. All the while her sultry voice encouraged me to cum. I felt my balls tighten, and I let out a roar as I came. My first stream landed on her face, as did my second. I came for what felt like an eternity. When I finally stopped her tits where streamered in cum, as was her face. She released my cock from her tits and slowly straddled me again.

"Well are you going to just leave me a mess like this?" She said as she pushed her breasts up, offering them to me.

I had never thought of tasting my own cum, but I was so aroused by the notion right then. My tongue covered her entire breast, getting every drop of cum. It was salty, not all together unpleasant, but different. As I licked my cum from her face, her hand played with her pussy. She brought her hand up, and licked her juices from it, and we kissed, passionately mixing are flavors together. While we tasted ourselves, and each other, Sykes reached back and positioned my cock at the entrance of her pussy. I put my hands on her hips, and she slowly sat back onto my cock.

She sighed into my mouth as she sank all the down onto my cock. My cock as so sensitive, it almost hurt. Her pussy was so tight, and so wet. She broke our kiss, and sat back, displaying herself for me. Slowly she started grinding her hips against mine. The way her body rolled with her grinding was beautiful, like a belly dancer. Her hands played with her tits. Sometimes caressing them, other times pinching her nipples and twisting them. Watching her pleasure herself, I felt my cock get even harder. She moaned loudly. I brought my hands up from her hips, and cupped her breasts in each hand. I brought her forward and licked her nipples.

As I began biting and teasing her nipples, and her hands found my nipples in return. Her nails drug across my chest, leaving red trails, and could feel her stomach gyrate against mine. Everything about her was stimulating. My cock was in her hot pussy, my nipples teased by her hands, my neck by her mouth and teeth, my chest by her tits. Even though I had just cum, I already felt another orgasm quickly approaching. I grunted, and tried to say something, but found I was in to much pleasure.

Once again she sat back, still teasing my nipples.

"You gonna cum again? You wanna cum inside my tight wet pussy? I want you to cum inside me baby, I want feel you cum." She groaned.

Her gyration sped up, and I knew I couldn't hold back any longer. I couldn't even moan as another orgasm washed over me. My cock spasmed, and Sykes slammed her pussy down on me and moaned. Her pussy tightened on my cock, and it felt like I was being milked for my cum. My head spun, and my vision blurred for a few seconds. I had to shake my head several times before I was really able to focus again. Sykes had a grin like Cheshire cat on her face. Her head was leaned back, and her eyes where closed. Slowly her hips started grinding again, and she looked at me.




Soldiers' Luck



We kissed again, while she ground her pussy against me. I groaned, as my super sensitive cock twinged. Her breasts where so warm, and I could feel them pressing against me so firmly. It was incredible. When she finally released me from our kiss, I gasped for breath, and she smiled again.

"Hun, I don't think I can keep this up. I'm not sure I have anything left." I admitted sheepishly, not wanted to suddenly go limp on her.

Sykes just smiled at me, and lifted her pussy from my cock. The sudden sensitive of air on my wet cock made me gasp. She climbed off of me, and got down on the floor. She got down on her knees, and leaned forward, thrusting her firm ass up. Her chest was laying on the ground, and she reached between her legs and spread her pussy for me to look at.

"You don't think you could fuck me again, even like this? Even with my tight pussy just waiting for your cock? Maybe something else is waiting too." She said like a naughty child.

The site of her pussy spread open like that, convinced me I could do one more. I quickly knelt behind her, and carefully positioned my cock at her pussy. I pushed just the head into her, and stopped. I formed a ring around my penis with my hand, so she couldn't get any more of my cock inside her. She moaned and squirmed, as she pushed back.

"So hun, is there something you want me to do?" I said, trying to imitate the voice she had used earlier on me.

"God please fuck me. Fuck me right now. I want you to stick your cock inside me and fuck me as hard as you can." She begged.

If I hadn't been so horny myself, I might have teased her more, but the sound of her begging for my cock, made me not want to wait. Without another second I slammed the whole length of my cock into her. She screamed and moaned. Her hand rubbed at her clit, and she had buried her face in a pillow. I started pounding her with all the energy I could find. With every pump, she thrust her ass back to meet me. I smacked her ass, and she moaned even louder.

"You like that huh? Want me to spank you while I fuck you?" I said.

She could only moan in response. I spanked her ass mercilessly. Both her cheeks where bright red. I could hear her breathing speed up, I knew she was about to cum again. I slammed my cock into her one last time, and felt her cum. It took all my will not to cum right there. I managed to hold back. My next orgasm was going to be my last I knew it. 

When her orgasm subsided, I started to start fucking her again.

"Mmmm, baby I had something different in mind to finish." She said through her heaving breath.

She reached back with both her hands and grabbed her red ass cheeks. Gentle she spread them apart, exposing her tight anus to me. I leaned down to hear ear as whispered to her.

"You want me to fuck in the ass honey?" I said quietly.

"Baby, I want you fuck me in the asshole with your nice big cock. I'm still a virgin there though, so be gentle baby." She said.

I kissed her quickly, and sat back up. She leaned forward as far as she could, giving a perfect view of her ass. I slowly pulled my cock from her pussy, and placed it at her asshole. With my hand in the small of her back, as slowly as I could, I started pushing my cock in. Her asshole resisted, but it slowly gave way, and my cock slid in a few inches. Sykes gasped sharply, and I stopped. I let my cock sit there, letting her asshole adjust to my cock.

"Its ok baby, you can keep going. I'm ready now." She said after a few seconds.

Gently I pushed the rest of my cock in. Her asshole was so tight, so hot. It felt like a vice around my cock. With every little movement I could feel her asshole twitch and tighten. When I finally got the last of my cock inside her, I had to pause. I was so close to cumming, the tiniest of movements threatened to send me over the edge.

"What's a matter baby? Do you like your cock up my ass? Its so tight. It almost hurts, but it feels so good. I'm about to cum with you just sitting there. Do you wanna cum in my asshole baby? Do you wanna fill me up with cum again?" Sykes moaned.

I suddenly felt her hand massaging my balls. The combined sensation of her tight asshole, her hand, and listening to her talk sent me over. With one last roar, I came. Sykes yelled to, and I felt her asshole tighten even more on my cock. My knee's felt weak, and my head was spinning. As softly as I could, I rolled to the side, with my cock still inside her asshole. We layed together, still in the grips of our orgasms. My vision got blurry again.

I wrapped my arms around her, not wanting it to clear. She snuggled back against me. As my cock let loose one more stream of cum, her ass twitched, and we where asleep.

-----------------------------------------------

When I woke up the next day, I was still inside Syke's asshole. My cock was still slightly erect. I didn't know if I had stayed that way, or recently come back up. As I propped myself up on my elbow I took care to move as little as possible. I wanted as Sykes still breathed deeply. A satisfied smile graced her wonderful features, even in sleep. She was so beautiful lying there. I kissed her gently on the neck. Her hand came up and caressed my head.

Her head turned and we kissed. It wasn't the wild kissing we had done last night. It was even more passionate though. It was a kiss that meant that even though we had enjoyed last night, waking up together was even better. My cock got a little harder, and I heard her moan slightly.

"Did you have fun last night beautiful?" I said to her, as I looked deeply into her eyes.

"It was the best night of my life stud." She replied, as she gently caressed my head.

We kissed again, and I very gently removed my cock from her ass. She moaned when the head popped out. After we kissed for sometime, she got up. We showered together, washing each other. I couldn't help but notice how perfect her body was, in every shape and dimension. We fondled each other teasingly, but after last night, neither of us where ready to go again.

We sat out on her balcony together, still naked. We sat and watched the sun slowly rise, holding each other. I felt tears brimming in my eyes, thinking that soon I would be leaving her. My mouth opened to speak, but she cut me off.

"Since you can't just spit it out, I might as well as say it," She said teasingly, "I really care about you Andrew. Hell, more than just care. I think I love you." She said the last part very quietly.

"I love you Sykes. From our first date I knew it." I replied to her just as quietly.

After that we didn't talk for a very long. We didn't need to. We cooked breakfast together, teasing each other all the while. Throughout the day we made love at least seven times. Sometimes it was the wild sex we had had last night. Other times it was slow gentle sex. It was always filled with passion, and we always strove to please each other. Neither of us left that apartment until Monday afternoon.

Sykes drove me to the bus station, and we sat for a long time together, waiting for my bus. I wasn't as filled with dread as I had been before that weekend. We had confessed how we felt, and it was like an unspoken bond had been formed between us. When it was time for me to leave, we embraced again. As I looked into her eyes, I saw a single tear run down her cheek.

"I'll come back for you. I swear to you." I said quietly.

She nodded, but I could tell she didn't really believe me. We kissed again, and I turned to get on the bus. As the bus slowly pulled away, I waved to her, and she stood and watched until the bus was out of site. As I settled in for the ride back to my fort, I pulled my phone out.

"Hey S'arnt. This is Andrew. Remember when you said you would let me transfers to a new fort whenever I wanted to? Well I need you to start working on it now."



Soldier's Paradise



(Disclaimer: This is pure fiction and a fantasy of mine. Not based on true events.)



My name is Bill, 21, of Native American descent, just below 6 ft, athletic build and enlisted in the Marine Corps of the United States. I enlisted when I was 19 soon after graduating high school and was still deciding whether or not I wanted to pursue a college degree. I was satisfied with all I was doing and had been stationed in a South Texas joint base and was to receive orders about a highly classified mission to South America. There had already been investigations of a saboteur working with South American drug mafias and a select group of men were to go on a secret fly drop-in, presumably as far south as Argentina. I was one of the few selected to go on this mission, a mission that would soon change my fate, my sex life and my view on my type of women.

The plane was going through turbulence as we were notified that we'd have to land on an aircraft carrier rather than jump out straight above the country pastures of Argentina, as their government might question the United States' intentions invading their country. The carrier was to meet us several hundred miles from the pacific side so that we could infiltrate through Chile and into Argentina. Their borders were minimally protected as some of the mafia influence spread between the two nations. From the carrier, we would take a small floater up to a tiny patch of Chile's coast, not guarded at all from the Chilean government, and controlled by some of our Navy.

As we tunneled through the border into Argentina we made fast breaks while in camouflage from some mafia grunts with AK's and what we presumed were stolen GMC Sierras. They patrolled along and we had to sneak past to establish a camp somewhere deep into the forests about 20 miles in close to the beginning of the mountain range. We camped out, 12 of us, roasting sausages by a fire as the night began to fall. It was winter here in the southern hemisphere, while I bet back home it was nice and warm, the crickets chirping loudly as the warm breeze hit your cheeks, listening to the distant howl of a wolf and sipping on some sweet tea.

It was early morning down here, around 200 and we were all to separate into three groups of 4, begin a search for drug-houses or find any traces of American influence. Afterwards we were to meet back at the camp before sunrise.





Soldier's Rescue



LOCATION: Somewhere in the Middle East, mainly Iraq

ALIAS: Dana Fairweather a.k.a "Desert Fox" of US ARMY Search and Rescue

My newest mission had me crossing enemy lines. With help from the U.S. Army, I had to go undercover to rescue an Army Reserve soldier, Capt. Doug Miller, who was kidnapped and attacked by a terrorist group similar to Al-Quaeda, the Al-Fraida. My boss at headquarters thought it would one of my best missions, especially because I'm rescuing a soldier while our country's military are still fighting with Iraq in the war.

According to files, Miller was last seen trying to deliver supplies and aid to victims when Al-Fraida attacked and kidnapped him on the spot. Now they want to kill him. So I had to go undercover, find and destroy the Al-Fraida, and rescue Capt. Miller. 

My alias is Dana Fairweather of the US ARMY Search and Rescue Division a.k.a "Desert Fox". According to files, Miller has been in the Army Reserve for 3 years and lives in San Diego, California. He also has 3 siblings: 2 sisters (Heather and Jenny) and 1 brother (Austin). Their mom Anne's a pharmacist and dad Samuel owns a restaurant. When Doug's not serving his country or volunteering, he does triple duty as an aspiring romance novel cover model, and an entertainer at a ladies' club in Los Angeles. Not only was I given information on Miller, but also on Al-Fraida. The Al-Fraida is similar to Al-Quaeda. While Al-Quaeda has Osama Bin-Laden leading a very large group of terrorists from all over Iraq targeting only America as a result of 9/11, the Al-Fraida's led by Rajiv Reniakah whose 40 plus members came from both Iran and Iraq who target the U.S. military and militaries from other countries.

For this mission, I wore a dark green body-hugging jumpsuit with a zipper in the front down to my belly button, bulletproof body armor under the jumpsuit, and black boots all under a large white veil. My shoulder-length dark brown hair was put up in a sleek ponytail under the veil. My weapons and gadgets for this particular mission are a .38 Smith and Wesson handgun, a flicker knife, a pair of night vision goggles, a digital camera disguised as a belt, and a smart watch with GPS.

Later that night, I spotted the Al-Fraida entering their secret desert hideout with my night vision goggles. I decided to follow them. I was still wearing a veil under my jumpsuit and everything else. The Al-Fraida's secret hideout turns out to be an abandoned building, which turns out to be an abandoned two-story apartment complex. I noticed most of the Al-Fraida left the building. With my night vision goggles still on, I walked right into the building once they had left. First, I went upstairs. I looked into the rooms to find Miller. Then, I heard noises from one room, so I kicked the door open to find Capt. Miller, tied up, bruised, and blindfolded.

I camp up to and said "Capt. Miller, I'm Dana Fairweather with the US ARMY Search and Rescue a.ka. "Desert Fox". I'm here to rescue you." 

With the flicker knife, I quickly cut the ropes from his wrists and ankles and then removed the blindfold from his eyes. Without being distracted I noticed his dark brown eyes. Doug and I began leaving the abandoned building before the terrorists came back. Once the captain and me escaped, trouble came early when Reniakah and his terrorist gang were about to come in. Reniakah spoke to his crew in his native Iraqi tongue to attack us. I was ready to fight when I took out my Smith and Wesson and shot two of them once in the chest each. Then, I clothes pinned and body slammed one into another. Doug on the other hand, punched one very hard in the torso while another got body slammed. I got out my flicker knife and stabbed three of them: one got stabbed in the stomach, another stabbed in the leg, and one just ran right into my knife. Reniakah was next. I threw him down, kicked him the stomach very hard, stomped on him, and then shot him three times in the chest and stomach with my Smith and Wesson. Once the terrorists were dead or fatally wounded, I contacted the boss who contacted the Army, telling them that Miller was found alive though wounded.

I asked Miller "Are you okay, Captain?"

He held on to his side and said "I'm okay, a little bruised, but ok. Thank you. Thank you for rescuing me and kicking terrorist ass." 

I laughed and said "Just doing my job." 

Once the Army Reserve arrived, I followed them as they carried the Captain onto a helicopter to take him to a hospital back in the USA. The boss at headquarters congratulated me on another successful mission. Once we were all back home, Miller was taken to a hospital in Virginia. My CIA boss and I visited Miller while he was there. My boss introduced me to him. The doctor said to us that Captain Miller had suffered minor injuries such as three broken ribs, a mild concussion, and some bruises on his stomach, chest, and right leg. The doctor also said Miller had to stay there overnight for observation and he'll be ready to go home in a day or two. The army contacted Miller's family who were relieved to hear the news that he's alive and well. 

Hours later, I too, went home to San Diego, where I live, work, and also go to school when I'm not on CIA spy missions. I work at a boutique and I go to school at FIDM hoping to become a fashion designer. I went into my sweet house, checked my messages on my answering machine and cell phone, and slipped into something more comfortable. So far, my best friends (Allison, Gabrielle, Megan, Shanna, and Brianna), my sister Natasha, my parents (mom Deana and dad Thomas in San Francisco), and aunts Maryanne and Yolanda all have called while I was away. I talked to everyone on the phone while helping myself to a pint of Haagen-Dazs caramel cone ice cream from the freezer. After that, I watched some TV and went to bed.

The next day, I went to school, hanged out with my best friends, went to work, went shopping and then ate. After all that, I went back home. I was relaxing when I heard a knock on the door. I opened to see who it was and there was Doug with short-stemmed white roses in his hand.

He said, "Are you Denise Fallon?"

I said "Yes I am."

He replied, "It's me Doug."

I was very glad to see him. He wasn't in uniform anymore mainly because he was honorably discharged from the Army Reserve and he got just gotten out of the hospital early this morning and when he came back to San Diego this afternoon his family and friends threw a welcome home party. 

I got a look at Doug. He was tall (6'2), dark (black hair and deep brown eyes), and extremely handsome. He wore a dark gray sweater, a black leather jacket, black jeans, and deep brown shoes. We sat in the living room on the sofa and began talking while I put the roses in a vase full of water. We've been talking about each other and everything that had happened since the rescue from Iraq. We began looking into each other's eyes.

Then Doug said "Thank you for rescuing me, my angel in dark green, black and white." 

As his hand slowly moved up from my knee to my inner thigh, I placed my hand on his chest and steadily moved down to his feel his erection hardening against my fingertips. With one hand, he cradled the back of my head as I leaned back. His lips slowly kissed my lips as his tongue softly touched mine inside my mouth. His hands were caressing every curve of my fully clothed body. I looked at him as I took the sweater off of his body. We continued kissing as he unzipped deep purple blouse and his hands moved lower to the waistband of my jeans. His lips moved lower from my lips to my neck.

With his strong arms, he lifted and carried me to my bedroom. 

He asked, "Where's your bedroom?"

I said "Straight ahead." 

We went into my bedroom. As he laid me down on my bed, he removed the unzipped blouse from my body. His hands unzipped and unbuttoned my jeans, pulling them off of me. I was left in my baby pink satin and lace bra and boy short panties. My fingers caressed his ripped abs up to his chest and to his arms and shoulders and short black hair. Doug smiled at he looked at every inch of my body. He kissed my lips again; inserting his tongue in my mouth while his hands were unhooking the back of my bra. My perfect, not-touched-by-plastic-surgeon, 44C breasts were released, giving Doug access to them with his hands. His lips slid down to my neck down to my breasts where he was cupping them and his tongue lightly flicked them before sucking them.

Doug took his time orally pleasing them, making me sigh and moan softly and deeply. With one hand, he gently stroked my fit, tight stomach. I moaned against his ear. He moved lower to where my panties are. His fingers felt a wet spot there, then rubbed where my clit was in soft circles. He pushed my panties aside, feeling the wetness of my clit and pussy lips. In a second, he slipped a finger inside me. I let out a loud gasp as my female walls were closing in around his finger. He slid in and out of me. My breathing was rapid.

He took his finger out and began taking off his jeans and underwear. I got wetter when I look at Doug entirely naked. He was built and ripped in all the right places. I even got a glimpse of his 7-inch cock. He slid the panties off of my hips. He placed a kiss on top of my belly button before his mouth moved lower to my bare pink clit and pussy. 

He began licking my pussy lips up and down. I heard him moan while licking and sucking my clit. He then opened my pussy lips and began licking me down there.

I moaned loud and my breathing was heavy and fast. After his oral assault on me, Doug sat on the bed, pulled me close to him as I felt him enter my pussy deeply. He started slowly as his hips were rocking against me. His breathing and panting were in sync with mine. I leaned my head back as he was kissing my neck again. My body moved against his as I reached into orgasm. My climax was loud, breathy which was the same for my orgasm.

I gave out one last passion-filled moan as Doug and I collapsed on my bed, catching our breaths. He laid his head on my chest while his hands were on my legs. He looked up at me and smiled while I smiled back at him. Doug crawled up and held me in his arms.

"You're just amazing in bed as you were when you rescued me" Doug happily said.

I replied "Coming from an ex-Army Reserve, I take it as a compliment."

We kissed each other's lips one more time before Doug had put his clothes back on, as he was getting ready for his modeling job. 

"I'll call you tonight" he said.

"OK" I responded.

Having sex with Doug was amazing. I really wanted to see him as much I can though even though I'm busy with everything. Somehow I knew we got something going between us. 

Until next mission, Denise.

THE END



Soldier's Story



We're in the army. I'm your subaltern and we've worked together closely, developing a real rapport based on mutual respect and appreciation. I admire your forthrightness, intelligence and competence and you have learned to rely on my instant obedience and canny anticipation of your orders and preferences. I've clearly got a big crush on you, but out of respect for military protocol we've never crossed the line, although you seem to coquettishly enjoy inflaming me, sometimes leaving one button too many unbuttoned on your blouse as you lean over, or crossing your legs provocatively, observing with cool amusement my discomfort as my eyes widen and I try to hide my obvious erection.

Then one day I make a terrible mistake by, in my sexual frustration, seducing a eighteen-year-old female cadet. For the moment you're the only one who knows, holding my life and career in your hands. You confront me and I tearfully beg for leniency. You're angry, disappointed and even a bit jealous, and despite our friendship you insist I must pay, as I have compromised not only myself and the cadet but betrayed my authority as an officer. You tell me that either our superiors can be notified, guaranteeing a dishonorable discharge and possibly jail, or I can put myself completely at your mercy, agreeing to do whatever you want, to unhesitatingly surrender to any and all demands you make of me. I agree to the latter meekly, with bowed head. "Yes, ma'am," I say. "Anything."

"You will go to my office immediately, put your feet on the edge of the rug and your palms flat on my desk and stay that way," you say sternly. "And take off that uniform. You aren't fit to wear it." In the half-lit office I slowly remove my clothes, hands shaking, still taking care to fold them carefully military style on the chair. In just my underwear I assume the prescribed position, leaning forward, my weight on my hands, awkward and off balance, my ass sticking up, feeling very exposed, slightly chilly and totally humiliated. I wait there for what seems like a long time, my cock alternately stiffening with excitement and shrinking with fear. I realize that we are about to enter a new stage of our intimacy, one in which I will be even more of a slave to your desires, now personally as well as professionally, and also realize with a strange start that I am very turned on by the idea. I flinch as the door opens with a stab of light and I hear your determined tread as you stride in behind me.

"Your underpants, Lieutenant," you snap immediately. "Are part of your uniform. Remove them at once." 

"Yes, ma'am." I hastily pull them off, and with them the last vestige of my pride, standing there dumbly, not daring to look back at you over my shoulder as you close the door. 

"Is that the position I told you to assume?" 

"Oh, no, ma'am." I quickly lean over again, palms on the desk, even more aware of the vulnerability of my exposed ass. "Sorry, ma'am." 

"Sorry is hardly sufficient. You have gotten off to a very bad start, haven't you? I'm afraid your preoccupation with teenage sex has addled your mind. I used to think you were somewhat intelligent, but recent developments have proved me quite wrong." I hear the sound of something tapping against your hand. "You are to remain in that position without moving. I do not want to hear a sound out of you unless I address you directly. Is that understood?" 

"Yes, Ma -- ow!" Before I can finish the cane slashes across my butt cheeks with a burning, intense pain unlike any I've felt before, and I shuffle, even beginning to lift my hand to shield myself. 

"You have once again disobeyed a direct order!" you roar. "For heaven's sake try to show some discipline." 

I nod feebly, biting my lip, composing myself desperately, and even though I shudder with the next hard stroke I'm able to keep silent and maintain my posture. 

"Now tell me, Lieutenant," you ask. "What exactly did you do with that girl?" 

"I, well, you know..." I stammer, my voice cracking. 

The cane falls again brutally. "No hemming or hawing. No circumlocution. Simply answer me. What did you do with that girl?" 

"I fucked her, ma'am," I blurt. 

"You fucked her. Lovely." You come around the desk, and for the first time I can see you, flushed and magnificent, sleeves rolled up, white shirt unbuttoned to your cleavage, a hint of lacy bra visible as I look up. 

"Were you unaware of the repercussions fucking her would have not only for yourself, but for me, your superior officer?" 

"Well, ma'am, I guess I..." Your slap is quick and precise, turning my head and leaving a flushed and stinging cheek. 

"Don't guess. Just tell me why. Don't you like your posting here?" 

"No, ma'am, I love it here. I suppose the reason is that I just couldn't help it." 

Another slap, backhand on the other side, just as hard. "Not good enough. Why, Lieutenant?" 

And I say what I'd been suppressing for so long, what I'd vowed never to say. "It's you, ma'am." 

"Me? Don't tell me you're blaming me!" 

"Not blaming you, it's just that..." I look at you, my eyes falling involuntarily to your perfectly shaped breasts, swelling under your blouse, the nipples visibly starting to harden beneath your bra. "When I'm around you all day, you're so sexy and beautiful and I get so horny and she was there and so available. She was the one actually who initiated..." 

"No," you interrupt and before I can say another word you've stalked around again, picked up the cane and delivered a smart stroke. "You are not --" Another blow. "Going to shift responsibility for this on anyone else. You are going to take your punishment like an officer." The cane falls again and again until I lose count or hope of it ever ending, my tears dripping on your desk, but I make no sound. 

It takes me a moment to realize you've stopped and walked around again to glare at me. You take my chin in your hand, making me meet your hard blue eyes with my brimming, watery ones. "Don't think I haven't been aware of the way you've looked at me. I've grown quite familiar with your lechery, but I had now idea you could be so perverse. Tell me, Lieutenant, couldn't you just return to your quarters and masturbate like the rest of the army?" 

"No, ma'am, I would never..." 

You release my head and slap me with one fluid motion. "I would think you had learned by now the uselessness of lying to me. Don't you realize that you are now completely under my command? If you wish to have any future at all you cannot afford anything less than complete candor. I ask you again -- did you masturbate?" 

I nod, but this elicits only another slap. "Tell me."

"Yes, ma'am." 

Slap. "Be specific." 

"Yes, ma'am I masturbated thinking about you." 

"How many times?" 

"I couldn't tell you. More than I could count. It wasn't enough anymore." 

I brace for another blow, but instead you smile, seemingly satisfied for a moment. "At ease, soldier."

My body automatically assumes the parade rest position at the edge of the carpet as you walk back around to my side, perching on the edge of the desk, crossing your legs slowly to reveal an expanse of smooth, white thigh where your skirt falls away, your smile even broader as you notice how I can’t keep my eyes off it. "And your little girl, did she come?"

"I, uh, don’t know ma’am."

"For heaven’s sake, Lieutenant, you don’t want another dose of the cane do you?"

"No, honestly, ma’am, I really don’t know. I suppose so."

"You suppose so? You can’t even tell for sure? And that was all you did, you fucked her?"

"Yes, ma’am."

"Where? How?" You swing your leg slightly, the tip of your pump perilously close to my penis, which is erect, engorged, straining toward you, quickly alive again after wilting during the punishment.

"It was outside the women’s barracks -- standing up."

"Standing up! Oh, how romantic! I can see that your basic training has been sorely lacking, Lieutenant. I don’t suppose you took off her clothes."

"No, ma’am. She just pulled down her knickers and I lowered my trousers."

"Charming." You swing your leg up to me meaningfully. "Well, I trust you’re able to remove a lady’s shoes, at least.."

"Oh, yes, ma’am." I pull off one of your shoes and then the other, lining them up under the chair.

"And how about a lady’s skirt?" You hop down, turning your back, arching your ass to me. "That’s a bit more complicated."

"Yes, ma’am," I say, eagerly fumbling with the hook and eye and drawing the zipper down unsteadily. You shimmy slightly as pull it down over your hips.

"Pick it up and fold it properly." I retrieve the skirt puddled at your feet as you step out. "I’ve forgone the hose this evening to make things easier for you."

When I turn back from placing it in the chair you’re standing there barelegged, white satin panties shining under the tails of your shirt. "Well? Hadn’t you better attend to the knickers? Carefully, though, they’re quite expensive."

And the material is indescribably soft and smooth, but it’s the touch of your skin, warm and elastic that sets my heart pounding as I gently draw them down, trying desperately to control the trembling of my hands.

This time when I turn from folding them you’re sitting on the desk, and it’s the tangled, untrimmed bush of your pubic hair that I can’t stop staring at.

"The first thing I think you ought to do, Lieutenant, is to thank me for the disciplinary action you’ve just received."

"Yes, ma’am. Thank you ma’am." I say, even though I can feel the shock and sting of your vicious blows fading to a dull bruise.

"Not bad," you say, laconic smile returning. "But not quite emphatic enough."

"YES, MA’AM. THANK YOU MA’AM," I bark as if we were on the parade ground.

"Better, but not quite right. Perhaps if you expressed it by getting on your knees and kissing my feet."

Immediately I fall to the floor and begin showering them with kisses. Oh, and I’ve long thought about them, the toe cracks emerging from your pumps like décolletage, or even their almost shocking exposure the few times I’ve seen you in sandals or barefoot -- as lovely as the rest of you, long and well formed, I cradle them in my hands, saluting your toes, your instep, your heel.

"Such enthusiasm! Commendable, if slightly ticklish. Why don’t you continue upward -- slowly please --"

And now my mouth and tongue go where my eyes have been so often lingered, on your slim ankles, your shapely calves.

"Yes, slowly. You’re going to know and serve every inch of me, my boy."

It’s not an imposition to linger on your round knee, your trim thigh, though I’m more and more aware of what lies above, the shadowy, redolent conjunction of your mystery, just ahead, my lips creeping closer and closer...

"Halt!" You pull my hair, bending my head back, meeting my wild, unfocused eyes with your now glowing blue ones. "You haven’t quite earned that yet. Why don’t you try the other leg."

And so I return to your foot, working my way up the same tender road, a mirror image, the same and yet subtly different, even more aware of your warm skin, smooth fragrant and freshly shaved, unlike your pubic hair, thick and coarse, and with mounting anticipation and desperation I painstakingly approach it again, fearful that at the last moment you’ll yank me back again from the gates of paradise, but you allow me to bury my head between your thighs, my hands just cupping your ass, nuzzling at your nether lips, slowly tracing the slit of your vagina, kissing, sucking, pushing my nose into your musky fragrance.

And all of a sudden the anger, the disharmony is gone from us, and we’re working together, the way we’ve always done, your hands knotted in my hair, both of us moving and grunting, grinding as I devour your cunt, the deep sympathy we’ve developed making me as sensitive to your pleasure as to my own, the two of us one organism pursuing your orgasm in a timeless, telepathic fever.

Until I finally I sense the first quakes in you and slow down, just sucking your clitoris, gently undulating my tongue, knowing that with each push I’m sending you another and another burst of bliss.

Finally you rise up and brusquely shove me away. "Yes, that’s sufficient...." You gaze down at me, gradually regaining your self possession. "Yes, Lieutenant, well done. You always had a smart mouth on you. You know how to please, don’t you?"

I rock back on my heels, wiping my mouth, savoring the taste of your juices. "Yes, ma’am. Thank you ma’am."

"I trust," you say, standing , completely the superior officer once more. "You are also able to restore a lady’s clothing?"

"Yes, ma’am, at once ma’am." I quickly pick up and draw on your panties as you lean on my shoulder. I’m still in a daze, almost unable to believe the liberties I’ve been permitted and you patiently suffer my clumsiness with your skirt, straightening it on your hips with sure hands.

By now my cock is even bigger, even redder, throbbing, veins bulging, pre-cum glistening, thrusting forward as if trying to bridge the distance between us of its own accord. It’s impossible to ignore and you glance down sardonically.

"Still at attention, Lieutenant? I’m far too lenient, but it’s just too sad to look at, like a little lost puppy." You lean over to open the drawer and take something out. "I trust you used a prophylactic when you disgraced yourself with that chippie."

"No, ma’am, I...."

"No!" Again your slap is instant and jarringly precise. "When will you learn to stop thinking with your prick?"

"She...she said she was on the pill."

"The pill will not prevent disease." You offer me what is in you hand. I see that it’s a rubber. "I hope that you at least know how to put one of these on."

"Yes, ma’am." I tear open the foil and begin to roll it down feeling as if I’m at inspection, tormented by the hot press of my own fingers.

"I see that you do. At ease." Automatically I assume the position, arms behind my back, legs slightly spread, but my cock is still anything but at ease. Your fingertips casually patter over it and then you grasp me, your hold as masterfully certain as Arthur’s on Excalibur. "My, you are a big boy, aren’t you?"

I can only groan inarticulately.

"Understand this, Lieutenant," you say, squeezing to the point of pain. "Your prick has been ruling you. But now I rule it. There will be no more fucking, no more masturbation, no more nocturnal emissions." Your fist begins to slide up and down. "No more orgasms of any kind unless they are the result of my specific orders, do you understand?"

You suddenly let go, and the lack of your touch is as painful as any blow. "Yes, ma’am, yes."

My face is flushed, my breath short, my entire body arching to you imploringly.

"You’d very much like to have an orgasm right now, wouldn’t you?"

"Yes, ma’am, yes."

Your fingers tighten again, beginning a slow caress. "Perhaps I will allow it if you request properly."

"Please, ma’am, please!"

"Please what, Lieutenant?" Faster now, but not fast enough, expertly pushing me tantalizingly to the edge but no further.

"Please let me come."

"Hmmmm....carry on."

"Please let me come, please let me come...." Firmly now, inexorable, my entire consciousness centered in the palm of your hand. "Please let me come, please let me come, please let..." And then the apex of relief, the sudden relief shuddering through me, the ecstasy, your hand easing off, the reservoir tip stiffening, torrents of sperm ballooning the rubber around my penis head, as I go wobbly, almost stumbling, breaking posture, but even then, in the midst of the intensity, staying under your discipline.

As the wave subsides I stand there, head bowed, humbled by my exposed need. "Thank you ma’am."

"You don’t deserve it," you say dismissively. "You will remain here in this position until 2000. You will not move for any reason, is that understood?"

"Yes, ma’am."

"At that time you will remove your condom, dispose of it -- not in here please -- put your uniform on and return to your barracks. You will report to my quarters at 0600 tomorrow morning for further orders." 

"Yes, ma’am," I say, saluting and without a further word you’re gone.

I watch the hands of the wall clock slowly move -- I have a half hour -- alternately mortified and excited by the events that I can hardly believe have taken place. In about fifteen minutes the door opens I think you’re back.

Instead I realize with horror that it’s your secretary, a raven haired East Indian, long and lean with olive skin and a knockout figure. She goes to the file cabinet and pulls out some papers, looking over at me with no shock or surprise, only a faint smirk of derision, sweeping out again with a superior, graceful stride, deliberately casting a glance at my now shrunken penis, the rubber hanging grotesquely off it.

I shake my head to clear it but I can’t. I realize that I’ve irrevocably entered a world I’d only dimly realized in my most fevered fantasies. My penis stiffens again.