Prologue to series
Even those who never served in the military are probably mindful of how unique the life of an enlisted person must be. As a veteran of seven years, I can certainly bear witness. Most could not imagine, though, that finding romance or even occasion for casual sex can, itself, be an exceptional challenge.
Without fail, every time I share any of my sordid tales of intimate congress while in the Army, people are overwhelmingly shocked and enthralled. Hopefully, with this series of short stories that I'm calling "Army Exploits," I can stir up a little amusement, curiosity and lust or possibly encourage others to write about their time in service.
My goal is to share authentic experiences, warts and all, as best as I can remember them. I'm not wanting to over embellish or try to make myself out to be a hero or gigolo. This won't be in chronological order, either. My expectation is to submit stories as inspiration dictates. I always welcome comments, criticism, feedback of any kind. Thanks, and I hope you enjoy.
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Growing up in the 'burbs didn't really prepare me for life in the Army. Enlisting right out of high school in the mid 1990's, I went out on my own without much knowledge of our fallen world. Honestly, I thought I'd seen a thing or two. It wouldn't be long before I realized what a coddled upbringing I had.
Early in my Army career, I began to realize that getting laid was quite an undertaking. The local bar and club scene were active enough, but the male to female ratio was unacceptable. Female soldiers were an option, but most of my choices were, let's say, less than comely. Many were actively competing for pussy too.
One time I was at a local country bar and started chatting up this shapely cougar-type chick. I was so excited to not have to fight off ten other GI's to get a word in, that I didn't even notice the indention where her wedding ring had been. When I asked about it, she explained, "It's ok, he's on deployment."
This would be ideal for a fantasy scenario. I mean, upside: she was making it clear that I wouldn't have to work for it, no strings attached. She was out of my league hot and basically had runway lights going up her legs.
Unfortunately, it was reality, with real consequences. There's no way in hell I was going to be party to that shit storm. With my luck, her husband would come home on leave and massacre both of us. Politely as I could, I declined.
My roommate and I were tossing the football around late one Sunday afternoon outside the chow hall. We were just killing time; waiting on it to open so we could pick up something to go and get back to the room and watch the game. We hated being tied to their stringent schedule, but for a broke ass soldier this close to pay-day, we had little choice.
As Brad zipped a pass right into the breadbasket, I noticed two figures crossing the street. Immediately, my caveman brain kicked into gear. "Females, two, childbearing age and not total trolls, as best I could tell." I thought. I whipped the ball back with a little more mustard on it, seeing if I could get their attention. Didn't work. When they were across, they turned at the sidewalk and continued strolling in the opposite direction. The ball returned to me and, distracted, I bobbled and dropped it.
"Nice hands," Brad bellowed.
Thinking fast, I scooped it up and heaved it as hard as I could. The ball sailed way over Brad's fingertips, bounced off the grass and came to rest just behind my two egressing targets. Somehow, they still didn't notice.
"What the hell," said Brad. "Trying to put it into orbit?"
I jogged past him and said under my breath, "follow my lead."
"Little help!" I shouted to the girls. Finally, they turned to face us. Catching up with them, a thin brunette bent down and with both hands picked up the ball and tossed it underhanded to me.
"Thanks," I said smiling, "Where you ladies headed?"
"N-n-n-nowhere," the other girl said nervously.
We exchanged introductions and then I began chatting up my roomie and myself. Meanwhile, I took the time to examine each of them ensuring I got the one I wanted. Besides, I was doing all the heavy lifting, so why shouldn't I get first choice?
The first had straight, brown hair bobbed near the jawline. It didn't take me long to figure out she wasn't the one for me. She was rail thin and talked way too much, I observed. I'll let my buddy fall on that hand grenade.
A stark contrast was the second one. Five foot two or three, I guessed, with strawberry blonde hair. She had a nice, athletic frame with healthy thighs sprouting from her high cut running shorts. Mostly, I was drawn to her ample bosom, which had no earthly business on such a petite figure. It was too obvious; it was her I wanted.
I threw as much personality as I could muster at them in hopes they wouldn't lose interest. My pitch was a little cocky, a little funny, all the while I tried not to seem as desperate as I was. Somehow, I had to make an impression. At the very least, I hoped to get a phone number, but I certainly wouldn't be opposed to showing them to our room.
For that, I could use some back up. I looked over at my roommate and he was just standing there waiting on chow, as if he couldn't read the room. "Wake the fuck up," I thought. Obviously, we had stumbled onto pay-dir. When he looked our way, I nodded, gesturing for him to join us. When he made his way over, I introduced the girls.
"Brad," I proclaimed cheerfully. "This is Becky and the quiet one over there is Ingrid." Not waiting for him to open his mouth, I continued, "We were just talking and since they didn't have any plans, I thought they could come up and we could order pizza."
Confused, he interjected, "but we......I mean."
I grabbed him around the shoulders and turned him away from the girls, trying to keep him from saying something stupid. Though, I felt I had a sheltered upbringing, Brad's was in a different stratosphere. He had little, if any, experience with the fairer sex and was naïve to the ways of the world. It was no surprise he wasn't catching on.
"Don't fuck this up, man, I think I've got em hooked." I whispered. "I'll spring for the pizza." Before we broke huddle, I injected knavishly, "By the way, dibs on red." Rejoining with the ladies, I suggested we move this party someplace more private.
I kept up the witty banter during the walk over with little to no help from my roommate. Mostly, every time he opened his trap, he undermined the progress, I felt I was making. Luckily, it was a short walk.
When we got to the barracks, we walked right past Johnson, the private manning the duty desk. He was on twenty-four-hour guard duty and part of his job was to keep unauthorized personnel out of the building. We were allowed visitors, but not after hours, and certainly no sleep overs. I knew we could count on Johnson not to say anything, but just in case, I looked back and nodded as the group entered the stairwell. He gave a thumbs up and mouthed fervently, "
NICE
."
Brad led the way up to the second floor, followed by Becky, Ingrid and then me. Her firm, succulent ass was right at eye level, and I soaked up every second as we plodded up to our room. The courting process, I thought, would be agonizing, but I was up for whatever it took. I was determined to have those ginger thighs wrapped around my head like a feed bag......and soon.
Our barracks room had a simple layout. About a twenty square foot box with a nook at the far end for a sink, mirror and cabinet. We were joined to another room by a jack-and-jill style room with a toilet and shower. Standard issue was two wall lockers, two chairs, a simple shelving unit and two beds. We opted for the bunk bed configuration to save on space and used our two chairs sat in the middle of the room facing the tv, which sat on the shelving unit.
This encounter would later inspire us to acquire a sofa, as we suddenly realized that the layout was not exactly fit for company. The girls, however, seemed eerily right at home. I sat on the bottom bunk, where I slept, and Ingrid joined me. Brad sat in his usual chair and Becky brazenly plopped down right in his lap.
Brad looked back at me wide eyed. We were both taken aback by her forward behavior, but I brushed it of as cheekiness. I decided to seize on the momentum and see if I could heat things up.
"Well, just make yourself at home there, Becky." I japed.
She turned to Brad and responded with, "I'm sure he doesn't mind."
"Yeah, I bet he was hoping you'd sit on his face, but I'm sure that will do for now." I snapped back.
An injection of innuendo would surely move things along, I thought. Brad was clearly turning red, but Becky was unfazed. She wrapped an arm around his neck, clearly inviting him to kiss her, but the rube didn't quite catch it. I looked to see how Ingrid reacted, and she did not seem put off.
Reaching over her to the nightstand for the phone, I asked her what kind of pizza she liked. My chest brushed up against hers, subtly testing my boundaries for physical contact. She maintained her bashful demeanor, not giving me any reaction that I could use to gauge her mind set.
"A-anything," she responded docilely. "I d-d-don't care."
It was cute that she was still so befuddled, but I was disappointed that she wasn't coming out of her shell like her thoroughly unrefined girlfriend. A little social lubricant was in order. After ordering pizza, I got out four beers and doled them out.
