An adult stories – Little Sister by TarnishedPenny,TarnishedPenny This short tale is my entry for the ‘Heroism – the Oggbashan Memorial Event 2023′.
Take a moment to raise a glass in Ogg’s memory;
as somebody once said, they don’t hardly make ’em like that no more.Spoiler alert: To disappoint some and reassure others,
despite the title, this contains not a shred of incest.
+ + +Can’t you hear, can’t you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover.
Men At WorkDon’t call me a hero.
Please.
I’m not.
I’ve known heroes. I’ve seen people do things that still amaze me. But me? I’m just a guy; I went where I was told and did what I was supposed to do, all the while trying to maintain my no-extra-holes-no-missing-parts warranty status.
Now Kate, on the other hand…
‘Petite’ didn’t come close. Everybody figured she’d passed the minimum height requirement by wearing heels or something.
And cute – distractingly cute, one might say. Good figure, curly brown hair cut shortish, eyes the colour of worn denim.
But tough. I sweated out something like 20 pounds that year. She didn’t have anything like 20 pounds to lose, but she was right there, all the time, carrying her own load and a full medical bag to boot.
Oh, sure, we got other medics assigned from time to time, especially early on, but as time passed and informal teams firmed up, she became our usual.
The whole platoon worshipped her. She was our medic, the one dropping out of choppers with us into much the wrong neighbourhoods or humping damned near her own body weight to keep up with us. Asides from the routine, against both odds and expectations, she’d kept two of us alive long enough to make it back to the Role 3 hospital and then on to the general hospital in Ramstein. We trusted her, felt safer when she was with us.
Neither simpering Barbie nor dour priss, she fit in, pulled 101 percent of her own weight. Somebody else might’ve been disruptive, but as far as we were concerned and in the best possible way, she was definitely one of the boys. She took the jokes with a grin, handed out her own without mercy, shared cookies, took a grateful nip when the camp bootlegger (don’t roll your eyes out loud, buddy, there’s always one) came up with a bottle. Sure, there was a line one didn’t cross with her, but that wasn’t difficult and there were always several dozen ‘big brothers’ watching her six.
OK, and more than just that. The rifle she carried wasn’t just for decoration. Keeping casualties alive sometimes involved more than bandages and QuikClot. It had happened just once – her patients became cubs and she Mama Bear. Respect is earned and hers came in triwalls.
She was ours.
Our little sister. With fangs.
OK, yeah. So, it wasn’t entirely , um, ‘sisterly’. This was a woman, a very, very pretty woman, even with plum-skin fatigue under her eyes, dust head to toe and white salt stains under each arm. While any of us mutts would have come up out of our graves to protect her, I can’t think of one whose eyes didn’t drift quickly over her figure when she’d dumped helmet and thirty pounds of armour, nor notice that pert bottom when, inevitably, she leaned over then to shake the helmet-head out of her hair.
And then, darkest morning, our world filled with a balrog’s malevolent lightning, the flat, too-loud-to-hear blast hammering our fire-bell ears, echoes of echoes, and the only one to hear Hayden’s screams was sidewindering into the open on her belly, head down amidst little silent puffs of bullets hitting the dust around her, raindrops on a millpond, until she found a grip on his harness and somehow returned our shattered prodigal to us.
There was a mud-brick shed and we had them inside it in seconds, leaving her to do her work and we ours.
It took a while. The furor didn’t just stop; it eventually just slowed, faded away, each separated, single shot leaving us wondering if it was to be the last.
Until it had been and then we did what we had to do – reported in, reloaded, counted heads, welcomed the traditional five-minutes-too-late arrival of close air. The usual.
When I had a free moment, I went to see about Hayden.
Blood to her elbows, she turned to me, the look on her face one of bleak devastation. It was, I think, the first time I’d ever seen her cry; silent, sobless tears covered her face.
“I could’ve done it!” she whispered. “He could have made it, but he wouldn’t try. He just… gave up!”
The tears began to wash away a smudge of Hayden’s blood on her cheekbone. I saw an open dressing pad on top of her bag and, with a man’s lifelong hesitation about female tears, used it to wipe her eyes.
“He could’ve lived, Sergeant.” Her voice was a bare whisper now. “Why?”
She sagged and the sobs finally started, beginning somewhere about fifty feet below us, growing in power and dominion as they rose and filled her slender body.
I knelt beside her and she fell onto me, her head on my shoulder. This I could do. My arms came around her, gently, stroking her back, holding her head to my shoulder. I murmured wordless noises of comfort as her body shook, shuddered with grief and failure.
The light from the door was dimmed by a platoon-sergeant-sized silhouette. I looked up and saw his eyes widen. He looked to us, then to what was left of Hayden, then back to me. After a second, he nodded briefly and turned away. Screw policy, screw the No-Fun Form. This wasn’t ‘fraternization’ anyway.
The sobbing slowed, finished with a soft hiccup. She stayed there another minute before her arms squeezed my waist and let go. “Thanks,” she whispered, then looked down at herself
“Jesus, what a mess,” she muttered. Producing a tissue from somewhere, she wiped her eyes, blew her nose and then, almost as if an afterthought, reached down and closed Hayden’s eyes. We used the water in Hayden’s canteen to flush away most of the blood off her, then I helped her get him into a body bag. The soft sigh of the zipper closing was the harshest sound I’d ever heard.
Her eyes were wide then as she grasped me by the arm.
“Please don’t tell anyone,” she said. “You won’t, will you?”
“Everybody’s entitled to one meltdown, Doc. This was a tough one.”
“No! Keep this between us. Please!”
Her eyes were locked onto mine.
“Sergeant Weinstein saw,” I said.
“I can handle him.”
“OK then.”
“Thanks, Sarge. You’re a prince.”
For the first time since we’d met, she stood on tiptoe and kissed my cheek. Then the woman was gone and the medic was back, moving to see to the lesser casualties among her cubs.
I didn’t see her again until we were back inside the wire and then she disappeared into her own circle.
+
I awoke in the darkness, wondering, listening. I would sleep through jets and helicopters taking off a hundred yards away and even through the thud of artillery or rockets, but one distant round of small arms fire on the far side of the base would have me off my bed, rifle in hand, pulse in my ears like a methedrine bat.
I lay still now, listening to the susurration of night noises outside the tent. It was quieter than normal. My tent was empty but for me, the others being on leave, outside the wire and such.
What had it been?
“Sarge?”
The voice was low, hesitant. Her knuckles rapped gently on the tent frame and I realized what had woken me.
“Doc? Just a second.” The hell? Was somebody hurt?
I pulled on a pair of gym shorts and opened the door. Her form was outlined against the scattered tangle of camp lights. Rifle slung over one shoulder, she was dressed in a pair of civilian shorts and an issue t-shirt.
“I’m sorry to disturb you,” she whispered. “I know it’s late.”
I tried to stifle a yawn, took a quick look at my watch. 0130.
“Z’ok, Doc. Is everything all right? What can I do for you?”
“I really need to talk, Sarge.”
“Something that can’t wait until tomorrow?” I saw the look in her eyes, changed my mind. Obviously not. “Hang on. I’ll get dressed and we can go over to the gym. Or maybe the cooks will have coffee on or something.”
“I’d prefer a bit more privacy, please. Can… may I come in? Just for a minute, I promise.”
I looked up and down the line of tents. The night seemed deserted, but this would be pushing things. On the other hand, rules were sometimes guidelines…
“Of course.” I stepped back out of the way.
Inside, I held open the flap of fabric marking off my cubical and she slipped past me. We had electricity by then and I fumbled for the switch. I pulled the light blanket up over the mattress (yup, one of those, too) to straighten up the bed and sat down on one end, my hand pointing at the other end in invitation. She sat, her rifle between her legs.
“So, what’s up?”
Her gaze was down at the floor, her shoulders sagging.
“I just really need to talk to somebody, Paul.” It was the first time she’d used my given name and it added to my curiosity.
Her voice seemed raspy, uncertain. Looking at her in the stark light of the single unshielded bulb, her eyes looked swollen.
I made a non-committal noise.
“You want some water?” I asked.
She nodded slightly.
“Please.”
I fumbled under the cot, found the half-opened flat of bottled water, pulled out two.
She started to twist the lid open, found her weapon in the way. She laid it down carefully on the floor, opened the bottle, took a tiny sip, then another.
“Thanks.”
“I’ll put it on your tab.”
I waited for her to say something, but she simply sat there.
“So, um…. You said you needed to talk. Is everything ok?”
“Yes, I do and no, it’s not.” She took a bigger drink, set the bottle down and looked up at me. Her eyes indeed looked like she’d been crying.
“I haven’t slept for two days, not since we got back.” I could see the admission was a hard one for her.
“Have you seen the stress debrief team? They’re supposed to be pretty good. That was a pretty crappy day.”
Her voice was almost a whisper.
“No.”
I thought about that, too. A lot of people didn’t want to talk to the shrinks. That a medic didn’t was maybe unusual, but what did I know? In any case, she wanted this to be informal…
“Happy to talk to you, Kate, anytime, you know that.” I tried, almost successfully, to stifle a yawn.
She looked contrite, reached over and touched my arm with her hand.
“I’m sorry…”
She looked at over the curtains dividing the tent into sections, her eyebrows up.
“Just us, Doc. So, what’s up? Bad dreams?”
She nodded.
“In spades. And flashbacks. Hyperarousal, too. You name a symptom, I’ve got it.” She paused, then her voice dropped even lower.
“I’m just so scared…”
“Afraid? You?” My mind flashed back to the sight of her dragging Hayden into our lines.
“I’ve been terrified since we got here.”
Her voice was so low that I’d had to listen very hard to catch that and her confession left me a bit shaken. Mama Bear, frightened? I thought for a second.
“Anybody who says they aren’t nervous around here is either a liar or a damned fool, Kate.”
“I’m not ‘nervous’, Paul. I’m terrified! Every time we go out that gate, it’s worse. I’m afraid of getting killed, I’m terrified of being injured, I’m scared of letting you guys down, of having somebody die because I screw up.”
“Um…”
“And there’s nobody I can talk to. The girls in my tent are all fobbits, they never go outside. They’re nice people, good troops all, but they don’t know!”
I pondered the leaden weight of her last word. No, of course not. You couldn’t really know until you’d been there.
“What about the other medics?” It seemed an obvious question.
“It’s… complicated,” she said and was silent for a bit before shaking her head.
“I’ve got more in common with you than I do with them.” Again, she paused before continuing with a course change.
“In one sense, it’s been totally hard being with this unit.”
My eyebrows went up and I started to stammer some form of apology, but she cut me off.
“No, no! You guys — all of you — have been great. You’ve treated me super well and I’m really grateful. No bullshit, no harassment, none of the stuff they warn women about.”
“But…?” I asked softly. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m still the only woman with thirty-odd men. And that means all kinds of stuff. Yeah, you guys check me out — how could I not notice? But it hasn’t been greasy. Anyway, that’s not it.
“I’m the only woman here and that kinda means I represent all women in uniform. Oh, I’m pretty sure I could get special treatment, just ’cause I’m female. I could moan and piss about being the smallest person and somebody would probably carry some of my kit. That sort of crap.”
She gave a momentary wry grin.
“Sounds totally stupid, now that I’m saying it out loud. But it’s true! I keep thinking of what the guys’d would say if I pulled the girly card. Oh, yeah. Her. She was ok. For a girl…
“I don’t think so,” I said. “They really admire you, Doc. We all do.”
“Yeah, well, maybe. They’re nice, but I couldn’t talk to any of them, not about this. But you were there when I needed it. Don’t you see?”
Her face turned towards me for a second, her eyes looking for something – reassurance, maybe.
“I’m still petrified, Paul. Absolutely shaking every time we mount up.”
“Me, too,” I admitted — and saw the surprise on her face. “I think everybody is. The important thing is that you’ve never let us down, Kate. Shakes or not, you do a good job.”
I thought for a moment.
“Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this, but I think you’re being written up for what you did out there.”
“That’s stupid. I let him die.” The bitterness in her voice could have been used to poison scorpions.
“Bullshit!” I hissed. I saw the impact my tone had on her face and tried again. “You crawled through everything they could throw at you to try and save him. All by yourself. If you were a guy, they’d be big brass ones.”
She sat silently before whispering.
“You know the last time I wasn’t scared, Paul?”
I shook my head.
“When you held me for a minute. Back with Hayden.”
I was suddenly alarmed. Rules can be overlooked when there’s enough smoking brass on the ground, but this was different. Just having her in my tent-space was a serious no-no, for starters.
“Doc…”
“No,” she said. “I know the rules and I don’t want to get either of us in trouble. But I’ve been wandering the base all night, afraid to lie down, afraid to sleep.”
She looked up at me, her face almost pleading.
“You know what I need? I could really use a hug right now. Nothing more, please, but I’d die for a hug, just some human warmth, just for a minute.”
Yeah, red flags and alarm bells and I can’t say I wasn’t aware of how pretty she was. But, I thought, here was a hurting soldier, somebody in need of help.
Just for a moment, then…
I shuffled over closer to her on the bed, extended an arm.
She flowed up against me, melted against me, her body warm in the night. I was suddenly aware of the scent of her shampoo and tried very hard to ignore it.
Her breathing slowed down, her body relaxed more against mine. Her low voice came from under my arm.
“Thanks, Paul. I really needed this.”
“No problem.”
It was awkward, though. I was working very hard to not think of her as a highly desirable woman.
“May I ask you something, Doc?”
“Go.”
“Is it your losing Hayden that’s hurting you? I know, professional loss and all that, but he was pretty messed up.”
“Partly. It was my job and he died, so, yeah, guilt. But I guess it’s not just that. And it’s not just being physically afraid — although I am.”
She took a deep breath, let it out slowly.
“I’m afraid of being seen as a pussy.”
I could tell how much that admission had cost her, too.
“Don’t be silly, Kate,” I said, squeezing her shoulder briefly. “Cards read and the boys know what you do. Nobody thinks you’re a coward. Especially not after two days ago.”
“I’m the only woman in a platoon of men. Women have to work twice as hard to be thought half as good. Look, what if you’d been the only man in an all-female platoon and one of them was wounded. How would you, as a guy, have felt about it? Would you have waited for one of the girls go out there?”
I thought about that.
“I think I see. Different dynamic, but ok.”
“I had to, Paul. There wasn’t a choice for me.”
I ran my hand over her head, down her back in a comforting way and stopped dead. I hadn’t noticed it before, but there was no bra strap under my fingers. I stopped petting and pulled her into another squeeze.
“Doc, listen to me. You’re a good troop, a good medic and the guys adore you. You’re no sissy and — listen to me! — you’ve got nothing to prove to anybody. You’re not chicken. But…”
“But?”
“Tomorrow, you’re going to go in and talk to the stress team….”
“I can’t…”
“You fucking will! That wasn’t a request and you cannot deal with this by yourself. Discussion ends.”
I waited.
“The answer I’m waiting for is, ‘Yes, Sergeant’.”
Her slim form sagged a little in my arms, then she straightened up.
“Yes, Paul. I will.”
Close enough.
I pulled away from her. She looked incredibly vulnerable. On impulse, I stepped further over the line, bent over and kissed her forehead lightly.
“Good girl.”
The bluest eyes, even in the light of one bulb…
“Now git. I don’t want to ruin our pristine reputations, Doc. And I’ll be checking, count on it.”
She rose and I stood up.
“Thanks,” she said softly, then was again with her arms around me for a long, strong hug. I was very aware of her breasts against my bare chest, separated by one layer of t-shirt. Then, with one brief, chaste, career-burning kiss on my lips, she was out of the tent.
So, yeah, it took me a while to get back to sleep.
+
The tour ended, as they all do, one way or another.
She’d not come to my tent again and our relationship had been utterly professional after that. She’d gone home first. There’d been a parade shortly before that and, yes, the general pinned a shiny on her. Word filtered back that she’d taken her release, applied to be an Emergency Medical Technician.
When I got back myself, I took the leave coming to me, looked at my options and considered that I already had 20 pensionable years in. My knees demanded a vote and I found that the idea of being a student again had surprising popular support. For some reason, I chose psychology. The Army would pay tuition and the pension meant I didn’t have to live on rice and beans.
We hadn’t kept in touch. I’d thought of it, once or twice, but had chalked it up as one of those ‘ships in the night’ things.
Until the afternoon my phone hummed with an incoming text.
Is it you?
I frowned, sick to death of spam and phishing. Then I saw her name and my thumb moved away from the delete icon.
It’s been over a year, I thought to myself. I was shaken to realize that I couldn’t picture her face, but had no trouble remembering the smell of her shampoo.
who else? hows it going?
ok. its taken me forever to find u.
It turned out we weren’t all that far apart now, a day’s drive. She’d aced her EMT training — no surprise — and had had no trouble finding a job. Yes, she was enjoying it. My courses were going well. No, I hadn’t really decided what to do with my degree. The trauma debrief had helped, thanks, Sarge. Thanks back for keeping us going over there, Doc.
I was waiting for her next text when the phone in my hand rang.
“Paul?”
Suddenly, I could remember her face.
“Hi, Kate.”
“I wanted to hear your voice.”
Not for the first time, my mind was filled with the memory of her in my arms, of those soft lips, of how her back had felt under my hand.
We talked for half an hour, rediscovering each other, passing time without really saying much. She paused, spoke again, her voice almost shy now.
“I… I have a small confession, Paul. My calling wasn’t entirely a coincidence. I’m in town now, some EMT upgrade training. Would you like to get together for a coffee or something?”
“Um, sure! How long will you be in town?”
“All week.”
“How busy will you be? Maybe I could buy you dinner?”
“I’m working and you’re a student. How about I buy you dinner?”
“Flip a coin?”
I could almost hear her smile.
“We’ll talk about it. I know this is sudden, but would tonight work for you?”
I thought for a moment. I was ahead of the power curve for my studies.
“There’s a new seafood place near the waterfront that’s supposed to be nice. Where is the training being run? I could pick you up.”
“No need. Why don’t we meet at the restaurant? I can claim a taxi or Uber anyway.”
We agreed on the place and time.
“I have to go,” she said. “See you tonight.
+
I found myself fussing like a 12-year-old girl getting ready for the junior prom. It was only when I found myself arguing ‘this tie, that tie, no tie’ that I realized how incredibly nervous I was. In the end, I pulled on some casual slacks and a light sports jacket, yes, with a tie. Depending on how she was dressed, I could take it off in a few seconds.
I had made a reservation and showed up a bit early so as not to leave her standing around in a strange place. I ordered a beer in the bar, where I could keep an eye on the door.
A minute later, a pair of soft hands came around from behind me and covered my eyes.
“Guess who?” her voice whispered in my ear.
“Mother Theresa?” I quipped. “Taylor Swift?”
“Nope. Third guess or pay a forfeit.”
“Helen of Troy?”
Her laughter filled the room and she was in my arms as I rose off the bar stool.
Her lips were as soft as I had remembered, but now there was no wary is-anybody-watching? caution. This was, if not a seduction, then at least a proper long-lost friends kiss and I felt my blood pressure rise before she stepped away, smile like a spring sunrise.
The tie turned out to have been a good decision.
She’d let her dark hair grow and was wearing it loose, down past her shoulders. Those shoulders were essentially bare tonight and I realized why a form-fitting ‘little black dress’ can be such a great idea. With a mid-thigh hem, a deeply-scooped neck and teeny straps, it clung to her like paint.. Her only jewellery was a long, thin gold necklace leading my eyes down to cleavage I’d never been able to properly appreciate before.
My mind flashed back to the last time I’d seen her, rifle under her arm as she boarded her freedom bird Hercules. There, she’d been pretty; in the here-and-now, she was mesmerizing.
“Enchanting!” I stammered, truly awed.
Her smile changed from happy to delighted and she actually gave a minimal curtsy — hard to do in a miniskirt and heels. She managed it well, graceful and self-confident.
“You beat me here,” I said as we were led to our table.
“A lady’s got to keep on her toes, Paul.”
I held her chair for her as she sat down and got a lovely smile of acknowledgement.
“A gentleman, too,” she observed.
“On occasion.”
Service was as good as rumour had said and the seafood was both fresh and well-prepared. She was easy to talk to — ‘comfortable’ might be the word. ‘First date’ conversation perhaps, but we had so much in common, far more so than most. We talked about our lives now, of people we’d known over there, of our families and hometowns. She laughed easily and was good company. She declined coffee or dessert, but took my arm as we left the restaurant.
“There’s a waterfront path just over there,” I said. She squeezed my arm in agreement.
“I’ve enjoyed this,” she said as we strolled. “Thank you, Paul.”
“Thank you,” I replied. “It’s been a wonderful surprise.”
Other couples passed us on the path. One pointed up suddenly at a shooting star.
“Make a wish,” Kate said. “You always have to wish on a falling star.”
A few steps further, she stopped.
“What did you wish for?”
“Wouldn’t that break the spell or something?”
“Not if we wished for the same thing.”
“Well then,” I smiled, “I really hope you wished for another kiss.”
I loved her laugh. Again, on tiptoe, she was in my arms. I bent my knees to make it easier for her, put my hands around her firm waist; my breath catching as she pulled herself against me. Her tongue met mine, explored, danced, delighted.
I felt my arousal like a brick in the night, and I was instantly erect. Laughing elatedly, she ground her belly against my hardness. My hands reached lower, clutched her bum, my fingers sinking into her flesh. Her hands ran up and down my back, then pulled my head down onto hers, harder now. My mind and head filled with her aroma, with need.
Without warning, she pulled back, pushed me away. I could hear her panting, very softly.
She looked away, shook her head slightly before looking up at me again with wide eyes. Her hand ran over my chin, gently now. She licked her lips, gave a half smile in the light of the street lamps.
“Paul,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I… I want this. Truly.”
“But…?”
“I’ve still got some issues. I thought this would work. I thought I could say thank you for your support in the best possible way. But now… now, I’m just a little frightened.”
She stood high, kissed me, gently. My arms came around her, but softly now.
“I want to try again,” she whispered. “Forgive me for now?”
It was a warm night, but I felt her body shiver a little in my arms.
“Of course, Kate.”
“May I call you? Tomorrow?”
“You don’t have to…”
She cut me off, a hesitant smile on her face.
“But I want to. Please?”
“Of course. May I drive you to your hotel?”
“No. Thank you, but I’m feeling a bit self-conscious right now and there’s a taxi stand right over there.”
“Sure?”
“I’m sure. It’s been a lovely evening, Sarge. I’m sorry to ruin it.”
“You haven’t. I’ve enjoyed myself, Doc.”
She kissed me again and I watched as the taxi drove her away.
+
My phone hummed late the next morning.
good time to talk?
yes
“Hi.” She sounded shy.
“Hi back, Kate. Everything ok with you?”
“Well, I wanted to apologize for last night.”
“Apologize? For what? I had a very nice evening.”
“Yes, but…”
“But nothing,” I interrupted. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Embarrassed.”
“OK, besides that, how are you?”
“Um, pretty good, actually. But I’m sorry for starting something I couldn’t finish. That wasn’t fair.”
“Have you heard me complaining?”
“Um, no.”
“Then there’s nothing to worry about. I had dinner with an attractive young woman, an old friend. We went for a walk and I even got a kiss. All good.”
She was silent for a moment, then spoke in a very low voice.
“May I try again, please?”
“Of course. We did seafood last night. What would be your taste for tonight?”
“How about lunch?”
I looked at my watch.
“OK, but it’s almost lunchtime now. Where are you?”
“Paul, may I come to your place, please? There’s a reason.”
“Um. I guess so, but I haven’t anything in the fridge fit to serve a visiting friend.”
“What kind of submarine sandwiches do you like?”
“Um, normally ham? Extra cheese and green peppers. Why?”
“May I bring lunch?”
“Of, course, Kate, but you don’t have to…”
“I’ll be there in half an hour.” With that, she hung up.
I looked around, rolled my eyes. My apartment was hardly dirty, but I had been focussing more on studying and there was definitely a certain amount of feral male clutter.
I shaved in the shower, wiped down the sink with my towel and replaced it with a clean one. Naked and one eye on the clock, I strode around the place, straightening, sorting, tidying, making the bed, hanging up clothes. With ten minutes to go, I turned on the kettle and pulled on a pair of slacks and a shirt, nothing too fancy.
Precisely on the hour, there was a knock at the door.
Kate was wearing a white blouse with a simple knee-length blue skirt. While the exact opposite of her dress at dinner, it was still extraordinarily pretty — eye-catching as opposed to last night’s outrightly seductive.
Her smile was bright and I noticed the sunlight reflecting from her hair.
“Hi.”
My attention was caught by some sort of flowery scent as she passed me. I will admit that I took a quick glance at her bottom, too, before she stopped and held up a paper bag.
I took it and peered inside, noting two wrapped subs.
“Thank you.”
She came close, kissed my cheek.
“You’re welcome. I think I forgot to pay for dinner last night.”
“Did you?” I grinned. “I’d forgotten.”
I showed her around the apartment, which didn’t take long. I felt my stomach growl slightly and apologized.
“Silly! It’s lunchtime.”
I pointed at the balcony doors.
“I often eat out there if the weather’s this nice, Kate. It’s got a great view of the harbour.”
“Deal.”
“What would you like to drink?”
“I think some ice water would do me very well, thank you.”
I had a small circular table and two chairs outside. In a few moments, I had a tablecloth in place.
“Cutlery’s in the middle drawer,” I said, pointing. “Make yourself useful .”
She chuckled. I heard her rattling through the drawer as I pulled out the ice tray.
Some minutes later, she wiped her lips with a napkin, took a sip of water.
“Thank you for your patience, Paul.”
“No thanks needed. I can be very patient with charming ladies who bring food.”
That brought a giggle. We ate slowly, enjoying the view, the warm breeze, the surprisingly good subs and, yes, each other. From time to time, she’d ask what something or other in the distance was; otherwise, we concentrated on eating. Finished, I cleaned off the table. When I came back, it was to find the table moved to one side and the chairs pulled together.
She lifted her hand, took mine and pulled me down to sit beside her. Her hand felt warm in mine and I was content to let her decide what was to come next.
“I was pretty messed up when I came back, Paul.” Her voice was expressionless and I sensed how hard it was for her to talk about it. It was the first time she’d opened this door and that in itself surprised me.
“I sort of guessed.”
“They’ve treated me really well, though. I’ve been doing therapy since then and, while I still have a ways to go, I am feeling much better.”
“It’s that big first step, Kate. Deciding to go for treatment is pretty tough, I hear.”
“It was, but you know… I did it because of one person.”
I looked over at her, felt myself falling into blue eyes.
“Not…”
“Yes, you.”
“Kate, I didn’t…”
“You hugged me in that dirt hut and kept me sane. You did it again in your tent — and I know that was a risk for you — but you did it anyway. You gave me precisely what I needed — some human connection.
“I’d been feeling like a robot for a long time. It walked, it talked, it did its job, but I was just empty inside, Paul. Hayden sent me over the top and I would’ve gone nuts. So, I wanted to say thank you.”
I could see where this might be leading and a yellow flag went up in my mind. This was an enormously desirable woman and while she was more than just tempting, I knew how wrong it would be to take advantage of her. I chose my next words carefully.
“Um, so, thanks accepted, Kate and you’re welcome. You were a good troop and we were all happy to have you with us.”
A look of mild uncertainty came over her face.
“That’s it? Just ‘you’re welcome’?”
I thought how to phrase it properly, kept my eyes on the harbour.
“Um, ‘thanks’ is all you owe me, Kate.”
“You sound like my therapist.”
“Does that make me wrong or right?”
Her hand left mine, caught my chin and turned my head towards her. Those blue eyes locked onto mine.
“I spent a long time talking to her about you, Paul.”
“And?”
“She agrees that you made all the difference at the time.”
“Again, Kate, you’re welcome.”
She sagged a little. I wondered if it was in frustration or because of bad memories?
“You know the second-hardest thing I’ve ever had to do?”
‘Second-hardest’… I had to think about that. It wouldn’t be the obvious.
“Going after Hayden?” I guessed.
Her face went solemn.
“Yes. And the hardest?”
“Going for therapy?”
A slight smile crossed her mouth.
“No, actually. That was about third or fourth. The hardest thing…”
Her eyes grew wider still and her voice dropped almost to nothing.
“The hardest thing for me to do was to text you yesterday.”
“Coincidence works its own magic,” I said. “Good thing you were in the city for the course, yes?”
“There’s no course, Paul.”
I stared at her, not knowing what to say next.
“I spent a lot of time thinking about you, Paul, both over there and since I came back.”
“Kate…”
“You were kind to me then. The last thing I needed would have been somebody telling me to ‘be strong’ or ‘tough it out’ or some other shit.
“You were kind, like you were the only human being on that whole base. Everybody else was in robot mode, but Sarge cared enough to be nice. In some ways it was all wrong, but in some it was really right.
“Look, I’m not saying I fell in love with you there, but I was really, I don’t know, fond of you. Does that make any sense? You were the one person…”
I just looked at her. Unconsciously, she licked her lower lip and my heart gave a double beat.
“All I ever wanted was to be a medic, to help people,” she whispered. She looked at me, wondering, perhaps, at her naïveté. “But the whole time I was there, the only time I felt safe were those two times you hugged me.”
I ran my hand lightly over her hair.
“I’ve often thought that it takes less courage to do something outstanding than it does to be something outstanding, Kate. You earned your keep.”
Her smile reappeared, slowly.
“Well, every time I thought of giving up back here, every time 911 dispatch sent us out to another horror show, I thought of you.
“And it got me through. So, when I told Dr. Finch that I’d found you, we talked about my coming to see you. We talked about the good possibilities and the bad ones.”
“And?”
“And she thought I should say hello.”
“Ah. Well, ‘hello’.”
“Dammit, Paul! Don’t you dare brush me aside!”
Her anger was real, I could see.
“I’m sorry, Kate,” I said quickly. “I’m not trying to trivialize what you’re saying or brush you off. But…”
I took a deep breath, tried to settle my nerves. How to put it? How far could I go?
“Sometimes it was hard for me, too.” I said softly.
She stared at me, uncertain now.
“You were — are — very pretty, Kate. I certainly noticed. Very much so. But…”
“You were a proper NCO, Paul. I get it — and thank you. But you and I are out now. And neither of us is 12 years old and — dammit again! — what bullshit ethical rules are you going by now?”
I almost laughed, then saw that she meant it.
I turned toward her, tried to smile properly. Her ire faded and smiling became easier.
“Kate… I… You are a spectacular pretty, desirable woman, but you are clearly vulnerable right now. However much I want you, I don’t want this to be a mistake, something you would find upsetting later.”
“That’s it?”
I thought.
“Mmm-hmm.”
She looked out over the harbour, turned back to me. Her finger ran along my jaw, leaving a thin tingling line behind.
“You are a thoroughly decent man, you know that?” She gave me a small smile. “But I thought about this and took the risk, bought a ticket. Then, last night, I was frightened at how fast I was getting turned on and… I chickened out. But that was then, Paul, and this is now.”
Her smile turned tender and she leaned towards me, her lips upturned in invitation.
The world had gone dead silent. All I could hear was my own heart.
OK, then.
I bent towards her, met her mouth with mine, felt her tongue trace its way along my lips. I opened them; tongues danced, explored deeper. I kept one hand holding hers, ran the other over her shoulder, down her arm, over one thigh. She shivered under my touch — a good shiver, this time.
Her free hand pulled our heads tighter together, then slid down to my throat, fumbled with a shirt button. Undone, her hand moved to the next, then slid inside, soft fingers over my chest and I was suddenly hard, scarcely able to breath.
I pulled out of the kiss, looked at her face. My eyes dropped for a second to her blouse, watched her breasts rising and falling as she breathed.
“I’ve dreamed of your arms around me, Paul,” she whispered. “They always made me feel so good.”
“And you, Kate, but I’d never imagined…”
Her fingers cut me off by lightly pinching one of my nipples.
“I’d take you right now, right here,” she hissed, “but I think the neighbours might object.”
Then we were back inside, a trail of clothing marking our passage to the bedroom and she was as delectable, as desirable, as beautiful as I could have imagined. Tiny, yes, but perfectly proportioned, a carefully-trimmed triangle of fur at her groin, trim waist and firm breasts topped with light brown nipples and areolae.
Her eyes swept over my body, feet to face, lingering at my now-solid erection.
“You’re beautiful,” she whispered. “All of you.”
She stepped forward, ran her hands over my chest, fingers in chest hair, drifting again over my nipples.
She weighed no more than a smile when I picked her up and moved to the centre of my bed. She squealed happily as she fell an inch to the bedspread and her arms opened in welcome.
I lay down beside her, half-rolled to bring my lips back to hers and saw her eyes close in contentment as we kissed.
I took my time, stretched out the kisses, lingered, delayed, enjoyed. I felt a hand running up and down my side, began stroking that perfect body with my own fingers.
Her breasts fit my palm perfectly and she gave a soft groan when my thumb and forefinger caught one, rolled it gently, pulled. That too was something to be prolonged and I saw her eyes grow soft.
Her hand had wiggled its way between us, stroking my tip with a finger and if I got any more aroused, I thought, my skin would split.
“Roll over a little,” she commanded and her hand seized my shaft, pulling skin over my hardness, stoking my arousal higher than I had imagined possible.
My hand left her breasts, drifted over her ribs, down further over her stomach, paused to shift her pad under my palm before discovering her own arousal, slick and welcoming.
I shifted to bring my head closer to her sex. Her sweet marine scent filled my head as my tongue tip traced its way up her inner thigh. She gave a soft cry as I found her lower lips, my tongue investigating, teasing.
Her hand, still holding me, began to pump my shaft, quickly, lightly and I felt the heat growing before — strong, strong woman — she’d pulled away from me, pushed me to my back and twirled her body to come down on top of me, her sex just over my face and a sudden warmth on my cock.
My hands seized her bottom, pulled her down onto my mouth. I licked, broad strokes, the full length of her lips, swirled lightly with the tip over her pearl, then again, heard her hiss. Again.
Her tongue swept around my crown, slowly, infinite lust. Her fingers wrapped around the Boys, fondling, pulling gently.
She gasped as my tongue found her entrance, probed, then deeper. She took me into her mouth, bobbed up and down, suction and sweet lips dragging over my skin, pushing me higher and higher.
I stretched her labia outwards with my thumbs, sucked her pearl between my lips, lashed it with my tongue tip, quickly, lightly. She gave a low cry, took me deeper. I felt the back of her throat, then she coughed slightly, pulled back, resumed working me, shallower but more rapidly. I could feel how close she was taking me.
I sucked her clit in further, lightened my tongue strokes, but faster, ever faster.
Her thighs began to quiver, her mouth slowed on my meat, then her cries filled the room, loud, rough, primitive, and she’d fallen away from my sex, her body shaking.
I rolled out from under her, dragged two pillows to the middle of the bed, one on top of the other, then lifted her and laid her on top of them, arching her back, presenting her wet and swollen pussy to my gaze.
I knelt between her legs, took my shaft with one hand, aimed and slid into her warmth.
She was so small; I took care not to plunge in straightaway, but eased myself slowly, carefully, not wanting to hit an ovary or something, then her hands had my head and our lips were back together, her legs curling up behind my back, pulling me in and down and I was fully home, wanting to hit my peak, wanting to drag this out forever and her moans became deep, chesty cries as her hips lifted, drove up against me and I was lifting, falling, driving into her womanhood, endless and fulfilling and she was shaking from head to foot as fire filled me, burning and consuming and I froze, feeling myself pulsing against her walls.
We slept, together now, not in distant tents, not with garbled announcements in the darkness, but with peace and with, yes, love. I dimly wondered why it had taken me so long to realize that before I drifted off.
+
I woke, wondered at the beauty of the head on the pillow next to me, gloried in the sweet smile on her sleeping face. I watched for what seemed like forever before her own eyes opened to see me smiling back. She gave a little kitty stretch, yawned, smiled even more.
‘G’morning, Paul.” Her voice was happier than I’d ever heard it and I knew how much I had needed her.
“It’s still afternoon, Kate, but it is indeed ‘good’ — very good, I think.”
I rolled towards her, kissed her lips gently. “How are you?”
“Me? I think I’m good too.” She giggled, her eyes implausibly wide. “Was I good?”
“I love you,” I whispered.
“That good?” she chuckled.
“Yup.”
She rolled to lie with her body against mine. My arm pulled her in closer, swept over her back and bottom.
I sighed with contentment, gave a mental finger to my own demons.
This would work.
+Thanks for reading.Votes and comments are keyboard fuel, so please remember to vote,
if not for this story, then for one you think is better.My sincere thanks to Jackie.O.Hikaru for her insight and suggestions.Lastly, a final thanks to Oggbashan. We miss you, Ogg.