The gray floor of the barracks filled the vision of Private Mark Davis as he crawled down the aisle between the two rows of bunk beds, using a small brush to scrub the tiles. He could feel the pattern of the tiles on his knees and his left forearm as he removed the dirt from the training grounds from the floor of his home for the last six months. This was not the first time that he had been assigned cleaning duty since his arrival at Fort Bragg for airborne training, but it was the first time he had ever been the only one to be involved. It was the middle of the night and he had no idea where the rest of his platoon was, because their bunks were empty. It was also the only time he had to accomplish his goal with such a small cleaning instrument. He also had no idea why he was completing his duty completely naked.
Laughter distracted him from his job and he glanced up to see Captain Walter Logan enter the barracks with the two girls who had left the local bar with the handsome captain earlier that evening. The trio didn't seem to notice Davis as they entered. The two girls were hanging on Logan, who had an arm around each as he kissed the redhead. The blonde's hand ran down Logan's chest and began caressing his fly. Logan switched his attention to her and the redhead began kissing his jaw and throat, her tongue licking along his flesh.
Heat flooded through Davis's body and he tried to return his attention to his task, trying to determine how to remove himself from the room without embarrassment. He was only nineteen but Davis didn't consider himself a blushing virgin. He had been seventeen and enrolled in high school when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. He had wanted to enlist right away, but his mother had asked him to finish his education. He had graduated, married his childhood sweetheart, honeymooned in the loft of her parents' barn, and enrolled in the army. He and Julie had both been virgins the night of their wedding. They had both been nervous, but their lovemaking had been sweet and satisfying before he had left their small town in northern Alabama.
The son of a Baptist minister, being thrown with men from all over the country had provided a cultural shock for Davis. The unfiltered language had been the first surprise for the boy. He had eagerly drank his first beer, and the taste had been horrible, but the he had drunk himself sick the first time. Now, when he joined his friends at the local hole, he drank one beer very slowly. He did not want to repeat the hangover experience. He had also been surprised by the women who flocked to the boys in uniform whenever they were outside camp. He had not been tempted, but several of his fellow soldiers had left the bars with the girls, whether they were married or not.
The girls always noticed Captain Logan. The tall New Yorker had a rakish grin, icy blue eyes, and sandy brown hair. His nose was crooked and he had a scar over his lip that made him seem like just enough of a bad boy that the southern girls practically swooned at his feet. Logan wasn't married, and he never left the bar alone when the boys had leave from camp.
Davis glanced up again. The trio were now naked. He didn't know how they had removed their clothing so quickly, or even where their clothing had landed. He didn't see it anywhere. They were on one of the bunks. Red was on Logan's thigh and they were kissing again. Logan's hand was on her full, heavy breast. The blonde was on her knees, licking her way down Logan's firm stomach, making her way toward the stiff member standing at full attention.
Davis certainly understood why women were drawn to Logan. In addition to his good looks and impressive build, Logan had a charisma that drew people to him. He was the kind of leader that was the hero of movies, where his soldiers were willing to follow him to certain death. He was tough on his men, but they trusted him completely. After only a few weeks, they became a well-oiled unit. Women wanted to be with him, men either wanted to be him or be standing beside him.
