2 comments/ 17112 views/ 0 favorites Fraternization Ch. 02 By: patricia51 (Brief summary of Part 1. Two members of the US Army in the mid-seventies; PFC Kelly Wooten and Lieutenant Mark Ashe find themselves attracted to each other, and then in bed together. We pick up the next morning.) That morning I awoke to the smell of coffee. I sniffed it with appreciation. Rolling over, carefully because I was, after all, in a single bed, I looked at the clock on the nightstand. Goodness. I hadn't slept that late since my last leave. I certainly hadn't had this kind of fun on that leave though. I did decide that, as appealing as was the aroma of coffee drifting into the bedroom, before I did anything else, I needed a shower. I got out of the bed, into the bathroom and turned on the water. As soon as the water was steaming I climbed in and let the water run over my body. I stuck my face in the warm water and sighed comfortably as it ran down my body. I was still standing there with a happy smile on my face, when I got happier. I hadn't heard the door open but I caught a cool breeze as the shower curtain was pulled back and a pair of already familiar hands touched me. "Need your back scrubbed?" Mark whispered in my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. I leaned back against him. "Think you can scrub my front too?" I turned my head and met his lips with mine. His arms circled me and pulled me tightly against his body. I wiggled to get as close as I could, which was VERY close indeed, except that something rather hard was shoved against my ass. "Oh," I whispered back, "I think someone is happy to see me this morning." Deliberately I pushed back against him, bending forward ever so slightly. Mark's arms relaxed slightly, allowing his hands to creep up my tummy and over my breasts. His fingers began to toy with my nipples, tapping them lightly, then rolling them around in tiny circles. His breath on my neck was as warm as the water, although the water didn't make goose bumps spring up. Of course those may have been caused by the rigid cock pressed right up between my ass cheeks. I leaned farther forward, bracing my arms against the shower wall. His hips began to press and retreat, press and retreat, the length of his shaft sliding up and down along my cleft. I made no attempt to swallow a moan as I felt the head touch my anal opening. Indeed, I accompanied my gasp of excitement by allowing my ass to push back against him as my hands slipped down the way, forcing me back to him. Mark's hands had fallen from my breasts as I leaned away from him. Now they were on my hips, then on my ass cheeks, rubbing there in circles. He swallowed so hard I could hear it over the water and asked "Kelly, are you sure?" I giggled momentarily, allowing the soap I still clenched in one hand to fall. "Oh myyyy," I purred. "I've dropped the soap." I bent over further, the water now beating on my back and scooped the errant bar up as I added. "I guess I should pick it up." I did and reached back, pressing it into his hand. By now my ass was really pushing back onto the head of his cock. He took the soap with one hand and directed the stream of water away from us with the other. I turned my head and managed to twist far enough to meet his eyes. "Mark, I want you to have me in any position, any way you want." I didn't tell him that my only experience with anal sex had been a disaster. One guy I had dated up in Indianapolis had attempted it without lubrication or wasting time by allowing me to adjust to him. He just tried to stuff it in there. Didn't work. This time I had confidence that it would. Mark rubbed the dripping bar against me. Thank goodness it was still fairly new and had softened nicely in the hot water. Then he must have rubbed it against himself, in more than one place as his fingertip replaced the head of his cock. he gently massaged my ring, around and around, allowing it to loosen, and, I must say, make me weak in the knees from his stimulation of the nerve endings bunched there. Then my opening gave way to his gentle pressure and his slick finger entered me. Mark began to wiggle his finger, curling it to touch my anal walls and carefully prying me open more. By the time he had slipped a second finger inside me and began to spread them, twisting and turning his wrist, I was humping my ass back onto his fingers and begging him not to waste any more time but to take me and take me NOW. He didn't of course. Hell, I could sense the grin on his face as he drove me nuts. And rushing it would have spoiled it, although at the moment I didn't care. Finally, in his own good time, I felt the head of his cock touch me, between the two crooked fingers holding me open. As he pressed slowly forward, he withdrew his fingers, allowing the head of his cock to replace them. I couldn't believe how wide he had stretched my anal ring, nor how good it felt. Now both hands were on my hips, holding me steady as he impaled me. By now, all he was doing was holding his position, I was using my arms and hips to push him deeper each time I had adjusted to the previous thrust. Bit by bit he filled me. I gathered my strength and my nerves and gave one tremendous buck of my body and slammed back onto his cock. He may have screamed. I know that I did. It hurt, but at the same time I delighted in his cock buried all the way where no one had ever been. I wiggled, I ground myself against him. The pain disappeared and now I wanted him to fuck me. "Mark, damn you Mark, FUCK me." He cast any thoughts of going slow to the winds. His hands gripped my hips, still a bit generous, regardless of morning PT. He pulled back until only the head was still lodged in my ass. Then he rammed deeply into me. I squealed. He did it again. I squealed louder. Then he was pounding me, thrusting in and out of my near virgin ass. Bent over as I was, all I could do was ride the waves each time his cock slide back and forth along my anal ring. I aided and abetted his ravishment of my ass by demanding more and more, something he was quite willing to supply. If I thought he had hammered me last night, I hadn't felt anything yet. It seemed he got longer and thicker with each stroke, stretching my ass to a place I never dreamed it could go. Harder and harder, faster and faster he went. I felt his balls slapping up under me and each time his cock bottomed in my ass he ground himself against my cheeks. Now I really did feel him swell. I was balancing myself with one hand against the lower shower wall while the fingers on the other hand frantically frigged my clit. I knew he was almost there and I wanted to be there with him when he did. I managed to muffle a really big scream when he locked down inside me and I felt the cum almost scald the inside of my ass as it spurted from Mark's cock. My hand was blurring as I rubbed myself and oh my GOD I was cumming and telling him about it and demanding he never stop. Of course eventually he had to. If nothing else, there was a frantic scrambling to hastily wash each other off as the hot water disappeared. We had both taken cold showers in the field, obviously Mark much more than me, but neither of us had much enjoyed them. Even with a wonderful warm body scrubbing me, we were finally in a situation where we both wanted to be done and done immediately. Almost shivering, we leaped out. Mark buried me in towels as he dried himself off quickly. He grinned, kissed me, and murmured he need to regain his strength and therefore breakfast would be available shortly. He donned a pair of jeans, pulled a colorful t-shirt over his head and closed the bedroom door behind as he left. I dried off, carefully hanging the towels back inside the bathroom, including the one Mark had dropped on the floor. Men. Making myself right at home, I pulled one of his shirts from his closet and donned it. I noticed that my nipples showed through it, but really thought he wouldn't mind. Then I heard voices from the common living area and realized that maybe I needed to cover myself a bit more. Of course, THEN I remembered my clothing was scattered around the couch in the main room. Just then the door cracked and a hand reached inside, holding my slacks as well as some of my other discarded apparel. I put my panties and slacks on. I started to take Mark's shirt off only to discover that my bra wasn't included in the bundle. Oh well. I looked in the mirror and grimaced. I managed to comb my short hair with my fingers but I still looked like the wrath of God. I shrugged. If seeing me like this didn't drive him away then maybe he really was the one I had been dreaming about. I took a deep breath and opened the door, to the sound and scent of bacon frying. That was nice. Mark was pouring coffee into two mugs as he stood by the stove. A nice looking guy, a bit shorter than Mark and with horn-rimmed glasses stood near him. Mark caught sight of me and he smiled, a warm, caring smile, not a leer. I hesitantly came over to him. He handed me a mug of coffee and then put his arm around me. "Kelly, this is my roommate, David Glasgow. David, Kelly Wooten." "Nice to meet you," we both chorused. Nothing was said for a few minutes while we all ate breakfast around the small wooden table. Then David refilled all of our coffee cups and waved us to the couch, while he settled in an overstuffed arm chair, his gaze searching us both. David looked at Mark. "Mark, Colonel Winston is staying here this weekend." I was to find out that the Colonel in question occupied the trailer on the other side of the shared parking pad. Mark looked confused about that statement, because David plowed on in explanation. "I'm afraid I have Kelly's car blocked in. I parked mine right behind hers, with my front bumper basically touching her rear one." We both must have been sharing that look of confusion. David sighed and looked at the ceiling while he spoke. "Its absolutely none of my business. As far as I'm concerned you are both adults and the smiles on your faces show me that last night was pretty darn good for you both. I'm Mark's friend as well as his trailer mate. He's happy, I'm happy. And Kelly, you seem very nice. But the Colonel's quite Regular Army, a stickler for regulations and all that." He looked at Mark, and then me. "I didn't want him to see the red sticker on the bumper of your car, Kelly." The light dawned on both of us. Of course. The red post stickers on the left front and right rear of my car marked it as a vehicle belonging to an enlisted soldier. The ones on Mark's and David's cars were blue, indicating an officer. Officers and enlisted personnel are not allow to socialize. The term is "fraternization". And certainly male officers are not supposed to sleep with an enlisted woman assigned to their unit. We could be in so much trouble if anyone found out. For anyone who thinks that those regulations are the usual governmental interference in people's private lives, they're not. The gulf that exists between officers and enlisted personnel is there for very good reasons. An officer has to order subordinates to do nasty, unpleasant and sometimes extremely dangerous things. Emotional ties lead not only to favoritism but can strain an entire unit. Nothing can panic a military unit faster than the belief that the officers aren't cool and competent and in charge, and if they're involved with the people under them that's not going to be the case. Additionally, regulations like that protect the lower grade personnel also. The days are long past when officers had batmen assigned to look after their creature comforts and polish their boots. Enlisted men and women are presumed to be adults and just as worthy of respect as the officers. Maybe I should mention that the salute exchanged between an enlisted soldier and an officer is not supposed to be a sign of servitude but rather a gesture of respect. That's why a Colonel is as obligated to return a salute as an private is to give it. Finally, the dividing line protects both groups from claims of sexual harassment, whether bona-fide or unfounded. Both claims have certainly happened as more and more women have entered the armed forces. Mark and I looked at each other. David had stepped to the door as though to leave but stopped with his hand on the knob and turned back around. "Sit down you two," he said quietly. Mark and I seated ourselves side by side on the couch. It didn't occur to me not to do so, and I guess it didn't to Mark either. David sat in a chair by the window and looked us both over for a minute. "Don't," he finally said. "Don't what?" replied both of us. "Don't give up." At my, correction, OUR startled looks, he smiled. "That's what you are both thinking. You're worried and unsure and scared because you're breaking regulations. But, if neither of you has noticed, the attraction between you is very strong. I can tell," he laughed. "Its the way that the two of you are holding hands." Startled, I looked down. Our fingers were twined together. I blushed and started to pull my hand free, when David stepped over and put his hand on top of ours. "Don't," he said again. "Accept it. Mark, you're being transferred back to a line unit. I suggest you and Kelly either don't see each other again until that happens or meet casually and don't appear to be together. After that," he shrugged, "You'll just have to careful and cautious." We were careful. We waited until Mark has settled in with his new unit before going out on an actual date. We kept in contact. That wasn't easy either. Back then we didn't have room phones in the WAC barracks. All that was available was a couple of communal phones which belonged to the government. I really didn't think they would be monitored, but stranger things have happened. Besides the big signs beside the wall mounted phones that said "Caution, NOT a Secure Line" didn't do much for my confidence. So I would call Mark from a pay phone over by the MP Station. We did manage to meet once at the post movie theatre. I can't even recall what the picture was. We each drove ourselves and stood separately in line, pretending we didn't recognize each other. I lingered by the concessions until I could follow Mark inside. It seemed half the post was there. Everyone from the Colonel who was in overall charge of Personnel to my company clerk had shown up. We found a spot that was reasonably dark but not so secluded that it would appear suspicious that we were sitting together. Whenever someone walked by we both jumped. I, at least, was unsettled the entire time. However, it was all worth while for the time that we held hands. Just held hands. The warmth of his fingers interlaced with mine, the occasional squeeze that we gave each other, these were enough to make for a wonderful night. Finally the transfer was complete, there came a Friday night and we went out. That was part of it, we wanted to go out. We didn't just want to run over to his place and make love, although heaven knows I wanted that. We wanted to be a couple. We wanted to be able to hold hands in public instead of under the table. We knew we couldn't go to the local clubs or the family restaurants though. But Mark had found a small place outside of the nearby city that seemed to be mostly frequented by the local people. It had a dining area separated by the bar from the real gathering place, a pool room. Picking me up wasn't simply a matter of Mark knocking on the front door and waiting for whoever answered to come get me. He parked several buildings away and at a pre-arranged time I met him there. Thank goodness he hadn't parked under a street light. As soon as he had closed my door and scampered around to the driver's side we were in each other's arms. Before we got to the restaurant I had to reapply my lipstick as it was all over Mark's face. It was a lovely little place. The side we were on was quiet, although laughter drifted from the area on the other side of the bar. Small tables were scattered about the room. With delight we occupied a small two person table near to the dancing flames of the large fireplace that filled most of the front wall. "This is perfect," I smiled as I sat down, Mark pushing the chair forward that he had held for me. Sitting down on the other side, he reached across and took my hands. "Yes, you are." "Flatterer," I smiled again. "I'm too short, too wide and too muscular. And, Mark," I hesitated, then plunged ahead, "I have a secret that I need to tell you." I had decided that this night would be the night I told him about Jeremy. The more I saw of Mark, the more I talked to him, the more we made love, each little thing made me realize I was falling in love with him. Not just lust. Mark was in my dreams at night. I had no choice but to be honest with him if I hoped one day that he might feel the same way about me. "Good Lord, so serious Kelly?" He tightened his grip on my hands. "I hope this secret is NOT that you've fallen for some other guy." "Oh My God no. But Mark, before I came in the Army, I, well, you see..." "Kelly?" Mark interrupted. "Is this about your son?" I must have looked like an idiot. I KNOW I sat there with my mouth open. When I tried to ask him how he knew, nothing came out. Mark rolled his eyes. "Honey, I was the company XO (executive officer). I've seen your service abstract. And of course your record of emergency data at the unit. You told me you were divorced and you had taken back your maiden name. When I saw the beneficiary of your life insurance was one 'Jeremy Strang', age 2, who has the same address as your parents, well, it didn't take a genius to figure it out." I buried my face in my hands. He reached out and carefully lifted them away. "I'm so sorry Mark. Its not like I'm ashamed of Jeremy. I love him to death. I just couldn't figure out when to tell you. At first I wasn't sure where we were going, and then I was falling in love with you and I didn't want to scare you off by telling you about him and..." Thank God Mark stopped my babbling with a kiss. "Its okay." His eyes sparkled and he grinned. "Confession is good. Its certainly made you tell me one thing you hadn't before, something I've been waiting to hear." When I looked puzzled her added, "Its about time you admitted you're falling in love with me. I sure am in love with you." My heart leaped, and then I'm afraid the waterworks started again. I drenched Mark's handkerchief and finally gave up and went off to the Ladies' Room to repair my face. I bounded back out, as happy as I had ever been in my life, and then jumped back through the door and peeked through the crack. For standing besides our table was my section sergeant. What in the world brought him there? Well, that was simple, he had his family with him and they were there to eat dinner too. I saw Mark smiling and nodding. When the waiter came back there was a conversation that I couldn't hear. The waiter shrugged, smiled when Mark tipped him and gathered up the stuff from our table. I slipped out of the door and slid along the wall until I reached the bar. When Mark nodded I dashed around the bar and exited through the pool room area, meeting him in the parking lot. I almost giggled when Mark joined me. The lights in the parking lot showed he had a hang-dog expression to end all such expressions. I suppose the reason I didn't laugh was because I was pretty sure my face looked exactly the same. Well, we did manage to eat out that night, but chili-dogs from the Diary Queen were not even close to the steak we had planned for. Still, the after dinner desert was wonderful, even if soft-serve ice cream is still very cold when its dripped up and down your body. Fate, or two friends anyway, came to our rescue. One day I found a message to call a certain familiar number. When Mark picked me up we went off-post to a new house in one of the sub-divisions that were springing up all over. He knocked at the door and we were welcomed by a woman in her late twenties who introduced herself as Martha. She hugged Mark and then hugged me. Fraternization Ch. 02 "Well, I'm so happy to meet you Kelly. Mark has talked non-stop about you." "He has?" She laughed. "Its all good Kelly. Come on in the kitchen with me while I start supper and I'll tell you all his hidden secrets." She opened the refrigerator and passed out cold beer to both of us and took a long swallow of a bottle she kept for herself. It turned out that Martha's husband Patrick was a classmate of Mark's and the three of them were old friends. When he had mentioned to them how much trouble we were having finding somewhere to go, they had offered the hospitality of their home. "But your husband is an officer too. Won't he be a bit leery of our situation.?" "Not him," Martha smiled. When Patrick arrived home, just as we were putting the steaks on the grill, I began to understand. My first thought was that he seemed a bit old, in his mid-twenties, to be a Second Lieutenant. Then I saw the Combat Infantryman's Badge on his chest and the big "Horse Blanket" patch of the First Cavalry on his right shoulder, meaning he had served with that unit in combat. I was to find that he had served a term as an enlisted man before he went back to college and got his commission. He had met and married Martha while he was still a Buck Sergeant. As he put it, that automatically put him on our side. Later on, Martha was to confide in me that when they were in college, Patrick was gone monthly and often in the summer, as he had remained in the reserves to supplement their meager GI Bill income and what she got from substitute teaching. He had to drive all the way to Alabama for his monthly meetings and to Ft Bragg in North Carolina for his summer training and the courses he was taking. Someone, apparently more than one guy, had got the idea that Martha would be vulnerable to their wiles and had made themselves pests until Mark had confronted them and convinced them of the error of their ways. She was very glad, because it had reached the point where she was afraid she was going to have to tell Patrick and she knew he would not have handled it as quietly as Mark had. So they were friends, they liked him, and were more than happy to welcome him, and his enlisted girlfriend, into their home. Patrick and Martha's house proved to be a godsend. I might be exaggerating when I say that it saved Mark and me, but it wouldn't be by much. Here we had a place where we could relax and just be together, spend the night without worrying about who might spot us together. It also provided us with a rendezvous, so he didn't have to hide around the corner of the barracks while I peeked out of the windows. Someone might have asked why we simply didn't find a house off-post together or say "To Hell With the Army" and get married. Its not that simple. Oh, we probably wouldn't have been court-martialed but non-judicial punishment, called an Article 15, or even a letter of reprimand would have pretty much ruined Mark's career. I didn't plan on being a soldier forever but I knew he did. I had about a year left by now on my three year enlistment. We agreed that if what we felt was as strong as we both believed, we could wait that long. To get married anyway. We weren't prepared to wait that long for certain other things and now we had a bedroom set aside all to ourselves. We did learn caution in showing up unannounced, even though we had been told repeatedly "Anytime at all, no need to call" and had each been given a key. We usually spent the weekends there, but an unexpected post training holiday had left us both with the afternoon free. When we met at the PX dry cleaners and realized this, we immediately took off together. I guess we never stopped to think that Patrick would be off too and that perhaps he and Martha wouldn't be expecting company. In vague self-defense I would like to claim that we didn't see Patrick's car. Yes, as it turned out, his car was at the dealer getting serviced. But we didn't know that as we slipped in through the back door and started towards the living room so we could tell Martha we were here. Of course, we expected she had heard the car doors, never realizing that her attention might be occupied elsewhere. We turned the corner and backed up in a hurry. I know, I know. We were evil, wicked and hardly the best of friends to watch what was going on. We peeked, just our eyes showing around the corner and my hand over my mouth to keep from exclaiming, then or later. Patrick was sitting at a desk. He was wearing his Class-A greens. The blouse was unbuttoned and the tie pulled down. His feet, clad in shinning jump-boots, were on the desk and he had the stub of a cigar stuck in the corner of his mouth. His hands were behind his head and he growled around the cigar. "Sergeant! Come in here Sergeant." "Yes Colonel," came Martha's voice. She, well, "sashayed" is the best word I can think of, into the room. I know my jaw dropped and I bet Mark's did too. Martha was wearing the uniform of a female E-5 Buck Sergeant. I was later to discover a receipt in the desk in "our" room showing she had bought it from the Post Thrift Store. But if I had ever worn a uniform THAT altered to the office, well one of two things would have happened. Either everyone would have died laughing or I would have been hustled out the door on my way to company punishment. For starters, the skirt had been hemmed five inches or more above the knees. I mean, it just barely covered Martha's butt. Black heels could be worn with the uniform skirt, but not three inch spike ones. There also was no sign of the khaki shirt that went under the green blouse. Martha put one hand on her hip and gave a little bump and grind. "Yes, Colonel?" "Get your steno pad and take a letter. Its right there." Patrick pointed to a footstool. "Anything you say Colonel," Martha turned and bent over. She bent way over. Over far enough to reveal that she wasn't wearing any panties. Patrick put his feet on the floor and tossed the cigar butt onto the table. I almost giggled. From the brief expression of relief that washed across his face it must have tasted terrible. I knew neither of them smoked. He leaned forward, putting his hand on Martha's leg and began to stroke the back of her knee with his fingers. "Why Colonel! Whatever are you doing?" Patrick didn't answer. Rather, he ran his hand up the back of her leg and over her bottom. She half turned, away from us fortunately, and he grabbed her wrist with his other hand. With one quick jerk he pulled her into his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He kissed her and unbuttoned her blouse enough to slip his hand inside it. She leaned against him, her hand working down between them. From the muffled noise that Patrick made, it wasn't hard to guess where her hand was. Mark managed to shake himself out of the frozen state we had both been in. He grabbed my hand and pulled me slowly backwards until we were safely out of sight. Then we tiptoed for the back door, Mark closing it as carefully as though he was disarming a live hand grenade. We hurried for the cars. I'm so horrible. I could NOT resist taking one last peek through the window. Martha was leaning across the table, gripping the far side with her eyes closed and an expression of pure bliss on her face. Patrick was behind her and it looked as though her skirt was bunched around her waist while he was thrusting for all he was worth. Then Mark absolutely jerked me away. We quietly backed out of the driveway. I waved at Mark to follow me. We drove to shopping center parking lot, where I locked my car and leaped into Mark's. I had him drive to a secluded place a friend had told me about that was off the railroad right of way. As soon as Mark parked where I indicated, I reached over and turned off the ignition. He opened his mouth to say something. He managed to get out was a strangled grunt before I frantically unfastened his pants and buried my face between his legs. All he could do was hang onto me as I put one hand down the front of my slacks and masturbated wildly as I sucked the cock I had seen was about to burst. We never, ever said a thing to Martha or Patrick about what we had seen that day. I think Martha suspected something when we took to almost always calling before coming over. A few months later when the two of them told us she was pregnant, I'm pretty sure I saw her look at that table and blush. With the help of our friends, we finally made it through. I completed my three years and was honorably discharged. We had already been going to marriage counseling at the Post Chapel so the next day we mailed the wedding invitations and a month later I was Mrs. Ashe. Martha was my Matron of Honor. Patrick was Mark's best man and he and a group of officers lined the stairs from the chapel with their sabers forming the traditional arch for us to walk under. Jeremy came to live with us and eventually Mark adopted him, with Stu's grateful permission. That made family life easier, as it meant all of our children had the same last name. Those children still enjoy hearing about how a flat tire was responsible for their being here. By the way, when you're discharged you turn in all your equipment, except for one Class-A green uniform for you to wear to your home of record. I still have mine. It comes out of the closet every now and then. After all, Mark IS a Colonel now and it would be a shame for him not to have a horny WAC secretary sometimes. (The End) (Thank you to my dear friend Marian, as always, for her advice and corrections. Since I can't resist "improving" a story right up to the moment I submit it, any mistakes are solely my responsibility.)