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To Find Hope in His Arms

captain_bond

Fuck Donald Trump
Joined
Dec 30, 2020
Location
Pittsburgh, PA, USA
Chapter 1: The Rescue

One quiet day, in a small town in rural America, it looked like a small army was descending on, and surrounding an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts. Men and women dressed in olive drab, wearing helmets and body armor emblazoned with the letters “FBI” and wielding assault rifles and shotguns stacked up on the entrances. A muscle-bound, brown-haired man in a black polo shirt, khaki cargo pants, and holding a Sig-Sauer handgun signaled the men closest to the doors to set the breaching charges, as he was positioned at the back of one of these groups. “FEDERAL AGENTS!”, FBI Special Agent Sean Wilson--the man in plain clothes--shouted at the top of his lungs, the charges going off and the men and women pouring into the warehouse. The occupants, a group of notorious human traffickers, refused to go quietly as they began to take shots at the unwelcome law enforcement presence, but their aim was scattered and they were quickly brought down by Sean’s team. Several other would-be gunmen emerged from the back room with hands raised, but when they were ordered to drop to their knees, they refused.

A man behind the row of surrendering people held a gun to the head of a young freckled redhead girl in her late teens or early twenties, it was hard to tell from the dirt and grime smeared over her face. She was fully nude, looking like she'd not even seen a razor in years, and it seemed she'd not had a shower in a while either. “I was just about to sell this one!”, the hostage-taker shouted. “My men and I were soooo tempted to just take her, but no one wants spoiled goods, uh-uh! So we waited, and waited, but YOU HAD TO COME AND FUCK IT UP! So here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna let me and my little morsel walk out of here. Otherwise, well, my finger just might slip. You have until the count of ten.”

The row of human shields and the way the man hid behind the girl prevented any of the SWAT agents from having a clean shot. But one of them, who had previously held a rifle, had now drawn his handgun, the larger weapon nowhere to be seen. Sean had used the chaos to grab his teammate’s rifle and climb up to the catwalks without being seen, and he now had a clear line of fire as the half-crazed ringleader counted down from, “Ten, nine, eight, sev–” BANG! The single shot echoed through the confined space as the man who held the gun against the girl’s head dropped to the floor in a heap, his underlings ceding defeat and dropping to their knees. Meanwhile the hostage fell to the floor as well, but from exhaustion and emotional stress. One of the female agents draped a blanket around her, and several other victims were found in the back room, all naked and dirty but otherwise in relatively good health, physically at least.

Sean, meanwhile, climbed down from the catwalks and as soon as the redhead saw him, she ran across the warehouse, tossing the blanket off of her and forgetting for a moment that she had no clothes on as she wrapped her arms around him. The young woman was none other than his best friend, Sarah Jane Foster, and he was so very happy to see her, giving her an enthusiastic hug in return. “Sarah,” he breathed out and she started sobbing into his Kevlar vest. “Oh, Sean, I had almost given up. I had almost…if you hadn’t have come when you did…” Sean held her tightly and said, “I could never give up on my best friend. You’re the reason I’m wearing this,” he said, reaching down and tapping the gold badge that was clipped to his belt. “You mean…when I was snatched all those years ago…?” “Yeah, that was my defining moment. I joined the FBI hoping to have a chance to rescue you.” Sarah hugged him tighter and cried more, the female agent from before bringing the blanket over. “You two know each other?”, she asked, taking off her helmet and holding it against her hip. “Yeah. She’s my best friend in the whole world, and the reason I became an agent.” The two finally disentangled themselves from each other and Sean wrapped Sarah in the blanket. “I’ll let you two catch up,” the other agent said and walked off. “You know, Sean, I thought I’d need months of therapy if I was ever rescued from this hell. But I have a feeling that as long as you’re here, I’ll be okay.” Sean smiled at her, but secretly he hoped he’d be up for that sort of pressure…and he also hoped that the sight of her naked body arousing him to an unimaginable degree would not come back to haunt him later. Sarah, meanwhile, wouldn't trust anyone else to even touch her for a while, so she hoped Sean would stick around for a while at least.
 
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Chapter 2: The Aftermath

A few days later, a few things had become clear. First off, Sarah would not let any man near her except Sean. So her protection detail was comprised completely of female agents, as the group that took her was still being hunted down. Second of all, she went a step further and insisted that he stick around. This he didn't mind, and apparently neither did his boss, stating that their connection would be good for her recovery. And finally, she definitely didn't wanna go back to their hometown, even after her parents knew she was alive and well. Apparently, whoever took her had help from someone back home. Someone powerful.

For now though, it seemed that the adjoining hotel rooms that Sarah and the security detail had been staying in were safe, if a little chaotic. One day, about a week after the raid that had resulted in her rescue, it was just the two of them in the room. Sarah had popped into the shower, and Sean was watching TV. Out of nowhere, Sarah's voice floated from out of the bathroom. "Sean? Can you come here a sec?", she asked, almost too softly for him to hear. His curiosity getting the better of him, he muted the TV and got up to see what she wanted. "You can come right in…you already saw everything, after all," she said, her tone almost coyly seductive, which set Sean's mind racing and his heart hammering in his chest.

Opening the bathroom door, she stood with her back against the shower wall, her skin glistening with water, her legs apart and her arms spread similarly, so her limbs formed an X shape. Sean stood and stared, wondering what was going through her head that could cause her to behave like this. "Would you prefer I keep some of this?", she asked, running her hands through the hair that had grown under her armpits in captivity, down her flat, toned stomach along the light trail that had formed there, and finally through the thick fiery red bush between her legs, letting out a soft moan. Sean could only nod, as he could never lie to her, especially now. "Good," she chirped, and took the disposable razor that she'd been given and casually tossed it at Sean's chest. He caught it before it hit the floor. "You can go now, unless you wanna stay?" The veteran FBI agent, who'd faced down hardened criminals and never flinched, turned and practically bolted from the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. A giggle, followed by more moaning, chased him all the way back to the front room.

A million questions were running through Sean's mind. Did she know he liked girls who had body hair like that? Did she want him as badly as he wanted her? What did that mean for their friendship? Would it even be ethical to give in to the desires that reuniting with her had awakened in him? Those and other questions dogged him the whole rest of the day, and the show she gave him when she exited the bathroom without a towel around her, getting dressed in his line of sight in order to deliberately tease him did not help matters all that much. He had to take a shower himself just to get privacy enough to masturbate his massive erection away, and he could have sworn he heard the locked door handle rattle for a moment before it stopped. This has to be a trauma response, he kept thinking. If I give in, it'll hurt her later.

Of course, she tried a few more times the next couple of days, but finally he pulled her aside and said, "Listen, Sarah, I am not rejecting you here, but I want to be sure that you're sure, okay? And right now, this seems like a trauma response. Do you understand?" Sarah's eyes welled with tears, but she threw her arms around him and cried softly. "I do, Sean. I dunno what I was thinking. It probably would've been really fucked up if you just gave in. This just proves that you're a good man. The same good man that became my best friend and who joined the FBI all for me." She raised her head and gave him a soft peck on his lips, before pulling away. Relieved that he hadn't screwed things up royally, he went into the adjoining room, one of the other agents taking his place as Sean sat down and began to clean his gun, just for something to do.
 
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Chapter 3: Finally

The chaos of staying in a cramped hotel room with at least two female agents (there were three on the detail, and one of them was always in the room Sarah slept in, if Sean wasn't) had finally become too much a week or so later when he accidentally walked in on one of them fully nude, in the middle of drying off from the shower. It probably didn't help that she made no effort to cover herself, Sean not knowing at the time that Agent Leslie Brown had come from a family of nudists. But to his credit, Sean left her to get dressed and told Sarah about it later, when it was his turn to be in the room with her.

"Oh, Leslie? Nah, she's just a nudist," Sarah said casually, as if it was no big deal. It wasn't, not to Sean, but the Sarah he knew from before had never shown she was capable of such liberal thoughts; this he attributed to her parents' conservative values, which at times seemed to be literally drummed into her head. Sean had been part of investigations into plots to disrupt Pride events and even commit violence at those events, and some of them had been orchestrated by groups with deeply-held fundamentalist religious convictions—convictions that were eerily similar to Sarah's parents' values. And those values were often hereditary and if the next generation rejected them, the consequences could be terrible. So he didn't exactly trust people who held such values, insofar as trusting them not to try and push those values on others, anyway.

Surprising Sean with her next words, Sarah said, "I'd actually planned on getting into that lifestyle once I was safely off at college on the other side of the country from my lame-ass parents." At that, the steely agent once again found himself reacting in panic, this time nearly choking on the sip of root beer he'd almost successfully swallowed. "Shit, Sarah, you gotta stop doing that!" His tone was admonishing but definitely had a more playful lilt to it, so she decided to hit back, saying, "Oh, come on, I know you're just aching to see me naked again." Having regained his composure, Sean fixed her with a neutral expression, looking like he might shoot her down. But then he said, "I've seen you naked at least twice and you've seen me naked zero times. Even the score somehow, then we'll talk."

Sarah's eyes widened as she thought about what her best friend might look like naked, and her thighs involuntarily squeezed together. "I'll keep that in mind." They talked casually over their lunch, and then Sean said, "As beautiful as Leslie is, she's not you. I'm gonna use my own money to rent a room across the hall, so that doesn't happen again. It was fate that bought us back together, and I'm not gonna let anything mess that up. You're too important to me, and I'm not just talking about being best friends. Are you?" Sarah stared at him for a long moment, and shook her head emphatically. "No, Sean. I don't think of you as just a friend anymore, either. It's...difficult to put into words, but it's definitely more than what we had when we parted, and I like where it could lead." Sean nodded. "Me too," he said, and he reached across the table to grasp her hand. This simple gesture caused her eyes to water slightly, and Sean reached up to wipe the tears away, leaning in to meet her lips in their first-ever kiss. It was mutual, magical and deep, and it occurred to both of them that they weren't gonna be the same afterwards. No, it would definitely be different from now on.

And they both thought it was gonna be much better.
 
(Author's Note: Whoa, two chapters at once? You spoiled little BlueMooners, you! Please leave feedback via a profile post if you have anything you'd like to say!)

Chapter 4: Learning How to Shoot

It had been a few days since Sean and Sarah had their conversation about how they were starting to fall for each other, and they certainly seemed to be in no rush to do anything more. But they were all going stir-crazy in that motel, and thankfully that wasn't to last. Some of their colleagues came by to tell them that several arrests were made the previous night that effectively dismantled the rest of the trafficking operation in the state, which made it safe for Sarah to leave the hotel after nearly a month of being cooped up.

She seemed to immediately know what she wanted to do. "Can you teach me how to shoot? I mean, my Daddy was gonna teach me anyway, so, well, since he ain't here..." The way she looked at Sean with those big blue puppy-dog eyes, and how she twirled a strand of her curly hair around her finger...it was impossible for him to deny her, even if he wasn't already planning on doing exactly what she wanted already. "Well, it just so happens I was gonna do that anyway, once we got the go-ahead to go out in public. That is what this is, right?" One of the visiting agents nodded, a tall, slim brunette who, Sean recalled, was recently engaged to one of the guys in the cyber department. "Straight from the regional SAC." (SAC is short for Special Agent in Charge)

"It's settled, then," Sean said. Leslie had loaned them her backup weapon, and the two of them were finally out of that stuffy hotel and on their way to an outdoor gun range that was closed for the week but the owner had graciously let them use the facilities. Sean would soon find out the reason for the owner's generosity. Bringing the FBI-issued Chevy Suburban to a stop outside the gates, he honked his horn in a friendly way, and the owner came out from a small guard shack and had his cell phone in his hand. Walking up to the vehicle, the older man said, "Son, I want you to meet someone. You haven't met her yet, but you're the reason she's safe. Jenny, say hi to Agent Wilson." He turned the phone so Sean could see the screen, where it was revealed that he was video-chatting with a blonde woman about Sarah's age. "Hey! Your agents tell me that you found some stuff that helped them find me. I dunno the details, but thank you. After the doctors are done making sure I'm okay, I'll be with my mom and dad again." She'd started to tear up, and Sean wished he could reach through the phone and hug her.

After promising to be there for her if she needed him, Sean nodded for the owner, a Navy veteran by the name of Joel, to hang up. "You're a hero, Agent Wilson," the man said, failing to keep from being choked up. "Just doing my job, sir," he replied. Shaking his head, Joel said, "No. You're answering a call. A call no less important than the one I answered. The battle doesn't end when we get home from war. Evil lurks everywhere, and there are those who stand up and face it, and those who don't. Those who do will always be welcome at my home and here, no matter what uniform they wear." Without another word, the veteran opened the gate and gave them the full tour, even letting them use a sort of clubhouse for more well-off customers that was complete with locker room and indoor hot tub. "There's some swimming holes if you wanna cool off someplace else. Call me when you need me to lock up." Something about the twinkle in his eye suggested he knew what they might want to get up to here, and he didn't seem to mind.

When the sound of his truck faded, Sean first explained the fundamentals of gun safety to Sarah: always assume a gun is loaded when you first pick it up, keep your finger off the trigger until sights are on target, and most importantly, never point a gun at anything or anyone unless you are prepared to pull the trigger and accept what happens afterward. Then he taught her how to actually hand-load bullets into the magazine of the small Glock 42 handgun that was hers to shoot today, then how to actually load the weapon. Sean then demonstrated how to use the gun in its entirety, and shot the target once without ear protection, so she would be able to make an informed decision about whether or not she wanted to use it. "Nah, I've been around when my dad shot louder guns than that," she said casually, and took up a firing stance once Sean had handed her the weapon.

And so Sean watched as Sarah seemed to effortlessly hit the bullseye of the target or close to it. When the gun ran dry she reloaded with some clumsiness, accidentally knocking one of the other loaded magazines onto the ground. "Sorry," she said, but Sean just went and picked it up...and was only inches from her body when he stood up. He'd dressed in a pair of blue jeans and an olive-drab T-shirt, with his badge and gun in their customary places on his belt. She'd opted for what looked like a tight-fitting tank top in red, but he noticed it went below the waistband of her denim shorts, which suggested it might actually be a romper. The question of whether or not she'd worn a bra was answered when her nipples started to poke through the fabric, and it was over eighty degrees, so there was no question she was aroused, not cold.

One of the benefits of falling in love with your best friend—which they both knew was what was happening here—was how sometimes you could say a lot with just a single look. So that was how they decided to finish up here before exploring other amenities. But Sean smirked and said, "Your stance is a little off," (it was actually flawless) before putting his hands on her ribcage and thighs, making nonexistent adjustments, and making no effort to pretend that the slips to her breasts and butt were an accident. Each time he did this, she moaned softly, and whimpered when he took his hands off of her. But they both knew they weren't leaving this place, surrounded by dense woods which hid a few well-protected swimming holes, without making love to each other. So Sarah took a calming breath and continued to run circles around Annie Oakley.
 
(Author's Note: What can I say? I'm on a roll.)

Chapter 5: Bullseye

When all the rounds that Leslie had given them had been fired, Sean went out to the target to examine it. "Damn, girl! You sure this is your first time?" Sarah giggled and said, "Yep, first time. Cherry popped, you might say." They both thought the same thing: about actually 'popping her cherry', as it were. Taking pictures of the target with his phone, along with a shot of Sarah pointing the now-empty Glock at it (its slide had been released and an empty mag inserted, to make it look like she was still shooting) and when they finally got a good look at each other, their faces were flushed and nipples and cock were starting to stand at attention, just from the comment about popping cherries and the resulting thoughts. Both of them needed to do something before they ended up tearing each other's clothes off with their teeth.

But Sean still wasn't sure she was ready. Hell, he hadn't even bought condoms, let alone brought any with him. Perhaps seeing some of this on his face, Sarah slipped her hands behind his neck and said, "Stop worrying, babe. I'm ready, willing, and wanton for your cock and cum. I know what I just went through not too long ago. But you being here has helped me more than years of therapy. As for the other thing, I've been on the birth control shot since the day after my big, strong, handsome hero rescued me from the evil human traffickers. I told the doctors that I wanted to be protected in case I'm assaulted, but I knew that wasn't gonna happen. Not with you around. No, the real reason I had them give me the shot was because my wet, hairy, virgin pussy would one day soon hunger for your big, hero cock and your thick, hot cum."

With each adjective and name for body parts or fluids, Sarah put emphasis on them, Sean's erection pulsed, and his jeans restrained it from being too noticeable. As much as he wanted to bend her over the table in front of him and just rail her, he knew that wasn't exactly a good idea. Even though the range was under video surveillance, Joel had given him access to the system in case they wanted privacy. But everything was backed up these days, and so he quickly but methodically packed the weapon and empty mags in the range bag, cleaned up their spent brass, grabbed a water bottle apiece, and followed a marked trail until they got to a branching trail to one of the watering holes.

It was here that Sarah stopped and said, "Sean, I have to pee." When Sean turned to look at her, she had indeed clamped her thighs together to indicate this was the case. "So, go ahead," he said, not taking his eyes off of her. Realizing that he wanted to watch, she smiled nervously and pulled down her shorts, tossing them to "her hero" who deftly caught them and stowed them in the range bag. She had indeed been wearing a romper, which did little to hide the untamed jungle of fiery red curls spilling out on either side. Unsnapping the fastening at the very bottom of the garment, which removed any lingering doubt that she wasn't wearing any panties, she tried to hold the gusset out of the way as she balanced herself in a squat. Sean quickly helped her sit on the edge of a nearby rock, before backing away in time to watch her let out a steady stream of clear liquid. The way she spread herself, the vulnerable nature of her pose, as well as the knowledge that she did that partly for his edification made his boner start to hurt for how much it strained against the denim. As he advanced on her with a wad of toilet paper in his hand, she submitted to his aid, moaning softly as he went over her most intimate area with another piece of toilet paper, after she'd been thoroughly dried, this time for no purpose other than to rev her up. At the same time, he brought her hands to his belt, which she correctly interpreted to mean she should free his cock at long last.

"It seems you've hit the bullseye in more ways than one," he said when his massive erection was finally exposed to the warm spring air. "I thought I'd have to do a lot of convincing to get you to pee in front of me." Sarah smirked and said, "What can I say? I know my best friend well. He wouldn't ask me to do something if it didn't make him happy, or me happy. Turns out, both apply in this case." She started to softly stroke him, but he held up his hand. "I'm just as much a virgin as you. I want to make sure the first time I cum because of you, it's special. You said you wanted my cum in you. Do you wanna waste that by making me blow my load with your hands?" Smirking, Sarah said, "Absolutely not," before continuing on to the watering hole, not even bothering to fix her romper.
 
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