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Embedded (Gunner x LingeringDesire)

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Gunner

Gunner

Star
Joined
Jun 3, 2012
Location
400 meters out with clean line of sight.
As Iran continues it's nuclear program and begins making more and more credible threats against both Israel and the U.S., it becomes obvious that they must be stopped. Despite a strongly-worded condemnation by the United Nations, nothing is done about it until the United States puts together an international coalition, which begins staging near Iran's borders.

FOB Winchester sat on the eastern border of Iraq, about a hundred miles east of Kirkuk. It had been set up in the middle of the Iraqi desert. It consisted mainly of connexes and temporary buildings set up within a perimeter of large, concrete T-barriers. While most of the camp was temporary, it was built around a previous structure, a multi-story building that had been subdivided into several small rooms and an operations center. The FOB, while only containing a company and some support, was still self-contained; it had it's own chowhall, aid station, troop billets (row after row of CHUs), a motor pool, shower trailers, and a pair of generators.

The FOB was was bustling with the normal activities when the chinook helicopter carrying the journalists came in, vehicles being moved around or checked, soldiers moving back and forth on their own taskings. The helicopter came down on the concrete pad that was being used as the helipad, stopping long enough to drop off the four person journalist team and all their gear. As they gathered their stuff, the FOB's First Sergeant jogged up.

"You're the reporters right? We've got some rooms cleared for you in the TOC. You can head up there and get settled, then you probably want to head down to the mess tent and grab chow. After that come to the TOC & they can direct you to your assigned unit." he said as he directed her to her room.

Their second floor rooms were small, but secure. A door had been expertly fitted in and were designed to be secured with a padlock & hasp mounted in the outside of the door. The floors were old cracked tile & the walls were concrete, covered with a thick coat of dull white paint. The room's windows had been almost completely covered with a layer of sandbags, except for a tiny sliver at the top.
 
Presley Gear shoved a few wayward locks out of her line of vision, capturing the overhead view of their destination with a few clicks of the camera that seemed permanently attached to her. Smiling widely at her boss, it was her first time in and as excited as she was everything was just as scary. Sliding her sunglasses back into place she snapped another photo of the crew before packing it up to transport to their rooms. She had only one bag of equipment and a large duffle of clothes, stuff she’d shoved in to a bag last minute sat between her feet. She’d dreamed of being on assignment ever since she was a little girl looking at National Geographic. This was of course before she’d found her way onto a journaling team that was set for Iran.

The wind caused by the helicopter blew sand everywhere and made it impossible for her to hear. She knew to grab her gear and follow, that was basically it. Looking all around her she saw photo ops, it was in her nature. Fighting the urge she stuck with her team, trekking into the worn looking building, it was hot and dust stuck to the layer of sweat on her body. Pres dropped her stuff in the room, a pair of creaky beds and little nightstands as well as a large metal locker were all the room contained. Unimpressed she shook her head and set out making her bed, the crate with fans and other amenities would be dropped off. Soon, is all they were told. The captain of the team, Bill a journalist who had done this several times over paired with Megan his assistant and the producer in the field, Bates their videographer and Presley.

Grabbing her camera she hit the bricks with the rest of the team. Actually she rushed out the door to take photos while waiting for them, like a kid in a candy store. Too excited to eat, she forced some of it down. Meatloaf and potatoes, not bad but not moms. The crew walked together back to what she knew as the TOC, they were finding out the group they’d be working with and filming. Biting her lip she toyed with the piercing just below her lip, she had others but to play with them would look off. She knew a shower was in order as the sand between her breasts was causing her to itch. Rolling her neck she stood waiting for one of the men to tell them what they came for, the sooner the better in her mind. Nervous hands tugged the duo of tanks, adjusting and readjusting. As her eyes moved over all that were gathered, she smiled, probably a little to widely as her chocolate orbs tried taking it all in. It was overwhelming to say the least.
 
When they entered the chow hall, almost all the men stopped what they doing and stared a little at Pres & Megan, although mostly Pres, being as Megan had dressed a bit more conservatively. The staring only lasted a few seconds, although they snuck glances at them for the rest of the time they were in there; after all, they were the only woman on the FOB.

About half-way through their meal, five soldiers came in, their rifles slung on their backs, cutting to the front of the line and grabbing some styrofoam to-go plates. The men were tired and dirty; their uniforms soaked in sweat and coated in a layer of the fine, flour-like sand of Iraq. There was nothing exceptional about four of them, all similar, dirty, tired, hard-working fighting men. But the fifth, the one who had led them in was a little different. He had a sort of rugged, dirty handsomeness; a lithe, muscular build, a well-sculpted face, and piercing hazel eyes which paused on Pres. His eyes roved over her in a second, going from head to toe, lingering a fraction longer on her cleavage than the rest of her, before turning away dismissively. They got their food quickly and left with it, after trading a few crude, good-natured insults with a few of the others present.

Once the journalists returned to the TOC, there were four sets of dark blue kevlar vests & matching helmets for them. Not the same stuff as the troops wore, but good enough. Hopefully. Bill made them all go store it in their rooms, explaining that things left unattended around soldiers usually weren't there when you came back.

By the time they came back down, First Lieutenant Green was waiting for them, and led them to his platoon, 4th platoon, charlie company, the one they had been assigned to. He led them down to his platoon area, really just three rows of CHUs & a wooden deck that had their Humvees pulled up to it. There were a few people milling about, most in the black & grey Army PT uniforms. In the middle of the deck were four soldiers, dressed in their fatigues, although they'd dressed down to their tan undershirts and had swapped their boots for sneakers or flip-flops. They had towels or their tops spread out on the wooden picnic table there, and were cleaning their rifles & a machine gun. And among them was the striking soldier from earlier, sitting with the men talking about the pirated movies that had been being passed around the platoon.

The lieutenant introduced himself, then the platoon sergeant, Sergeant First Class Woodard. The two had a quick private discussion, after which the officer turned back to Pres.

"We've decided to put you with Sergeant Eric Wright, second squad leader. He's a good soldier, already deployed once each to Iraq & Afghanistan, very experienced & knowledgeable. Woodard, why don't you take her to meet him?" the lieutenant said.

The sergeant nodded, and motioned for her to follow him outside. The four soldiers there were gone however, and Wright wasn't in his room. Why the time they found someone who knew where he was, he was already walking back from his shower, dressed in his PTs and shower shoes, finally cleaned, his rifle held in one hand.

"Wright, this is Presley Gear, she's one of the journalists that's embedding with us. We're putting you in charge of managing them." Woodard said.

Eric's facial expression made it clear for a split-second that he wasn't happy about that at all.

"Great." he said neutrally, his eyes darting between Presley's face & breasts.


PT - Physical Training
 
Pres had seen the men come in but with their uniforms they all looked the same to her. That and he was rather far away and she was fiddling with her camera. She thought the vests and helmets were ugly, bulky and hot. That and she didn’t want to wear them since they might interfere with her movements. Sighing she tossed them on the bed and rushed out. She had to meet the men they’d be working with, not that she had a thing for soldiers… well what girl didn’t, but that was the last thing. LIES, it just wasn’t the first thing on it.

Her gym shoes collected sand and a small pebble as they walked to the little house looking buildings. Her eyes went wide at the guns; she’d never been this close to one. Deep brown eyes moved over the men slowly, her eyes lingering on the striking one. She bit her lip and imagined his profile back lit by the setting sun, helmet on and gun poised. His facial structures were perfect; she ducked into the building to meet another man, the platoon sergeant. She spoke softly to Bill and Megan about the man; if this was their crew then he was their guy at least the one she knew she could get the best shots out of. She tugged at the lowest hem of her khaki shorts and moved out of the building with the man to find the guy she’d be paired with, Sergeant Eric Wright.

Every place they went he’d either just been there or they hadn’t seen him in a while. How far could he have gotten, she wondered with a smile. A friendly soldier directed them to the showers, a place she wished to stay away from… considering it would have been filled with naked men. Her eyes flitted over the male as he approached. Presley already knew who it was, but not that it was who they were looking for until she was introduced. She held out a small tanned hand to him, before drawing it back to swipe it on her thigh. “Sorry… it’s a bit sandy or dirty, maybe both.” She smiled up at him widely before realizing that most everything was sandy and dirty. She shook her head.

Her smiled turned to a slight frown when she registered the facial expression he’d given. He had his reasons she was sure. Unsure of what to ask or say she just stared at him before realizing her shoe was untied, kneeling she looked up at him and smiled softly before working on the laces. The stance giving him the perfect view down her top and the sexy red laced bra she wore beneath the tanks. Righting herself she cleared her throat gently. “So… what kind of things shall I be doing in your management… Mr. Wright, or should I call you Sergeant or Eric?”
 
Eric's eyes moved over her from head to toe & back up to her head, ignoring the offered hand. it wasn't so much that he had anything against her personally, but that he had no use for an embedded reporters. He didn't need dead weight. He didn't need some else's gear to carry, didn't need an untrained non-combatant following his squad around, didn't need a female who was physically weaker than his men, and certainly didn't need a space in the humvee or helo taken up by someone who didn't carry a gun.

He didn't mind however, the view he got when she bent over was pretty good. His shorts tightened up a bit, and the thin fabric did little to hide what he had been thinking of for a second. He shook his head a little to clear his thoughts.

"You can call me Sergeant Wright, or Sergeant." he said, still stoney.
"I won't be 'managing' anything, other than keeping you from getting shot." he said, shooting a look to his platoon sergeant before looking back at Pres.
"Tomorrow we're rolling out in humvees for a scouting patrol. Be here no later than 0845 tomorrow morning with whatever stuff you need, including armor, helmet, eye protection, and suitable clothing." he said, eying her shorts, tank top, & running shoes.
"And I'm sure you already got your OpSec briefing when you processed in country, but you can't say anything about when or what we're doing until well after it's done."

OpSec - Operational Security - basically means keeping secrets
 
Presley felt his eyes on her, evaluation or sizing up, either way she wasn’t sure. Biting her plump lower lip she broke into a smile, “So serious, but alright Sergeant Wright.” She let her mind linger on that a moment, wondering if he made his bed partner cry that out in pleasure. Perhaps she was allowed to call him Eric, but only in that instance. Blushing for a brief second she wondered why her mind flipped there. Probably because of the situation at hand.

“Okay, so how long will we be gone, Sergeant?” She asked tilting her head at him, lifting one graceful hand to shield her eyes so she could look up at him. Though it caused her breath to get caught in her throat so she dropped her hand and looked away. She went over the rest of what he’d said, obviously not approving of her manner of dress now. However she knew what was required when working, but she was off until 8:45 am the next morning. At least it wasn’t like 6 or 7.

“Oh, and I remember my OpSpec meeting. I don’t plan on publishing any of my photos until I return to the states, unless it is generic. But it is all up to my team, Bill, Bates, Megan and myself.” She pointed to the group on the porch area of the little buildings. Seemed to her the guy was being an ass, perhaps he hadn’t spent much time around women but he was bringing out the worst in her. “Should I get my thong approved by you in the morning or tonight?” She spat out before turning from him. She’d heard enough, but she was disoriented and she wasn’t sure where their rooms were. Sighing she headed over to her team.
 
(So SO sorry it took me so long to reply. Finals really beat me down; I'm still recovering...)

At her first question, Sergeant Wright pulled a water-proof notepad from his thigh pocket and checked his notes, more to distract himself from his idle thoughts than anything else. Thoughts of what she would look like without her outfit; thoughts of what her pants & moans would sound like; thoughts of her taste.

"It's a simple route recon. We're meeting for PCIs at 0900 and rolling out at 1100; you probably outta grab a couple MREs at the chow hall to bring with. It shouldn't take more than three or four hours, but pack your night optics anyway." he said.

It seemed to be going okay, but then she copped an attitude with him. He snorted, as if the PPE requirements set up by MNCI were HIS idea. As if he'd be wandering around in kneepads if he wasn't forced. He sneered a bit at her as she got defensive.

"It would be best to get it approved sooner than later!" he called after her as she walked away.

And with that he turned and walked away. He had a lot to get ready for tomorrow.




OOC: BTW, I'll explain the acronyms and what-not that she'd know, and intentionally leave the rest unexplained. ;)

PPE - personal protective equipment
MNCI - Multi-National Coalition Iraq
 
((It's alright I understand. I am patient as long as you give me a heads up, and you did lol))

Pres waived him off, in no mood to hear what he had to say now. She needed to burn off some of her anger. She did hear his suggestions, whether or not she'd follow them was up in the air. If she'd really wanted to she'd have flipped him the bird, but found that was childish and probably against some sort of rule.

She sat with her team getting to know the others in the group, she wasn't sure of the proper words. They all seemed nice enough, nicer than Mr. Sergeant Eric Wright. With a smile on her lips she thought of the man with his breathtaking face and found it a shame to have been wasted on such an ass of a man. Her mind flipped to his ass, it was a pleasantry. "Damn..." She lamented, more to herself as she attempted to dismiss the image.

Dozing off in her bed hours later she couldn't wipe his image from her mind and proceeded to the shower trailer to cool down. She emerged, covered in short shorts and tank, sans bra and panties. Her hair was wrapped in a towel. Presley slipped back into the building, the area was silent and soon she was able to slip off into dreamland. Her gear was packed and her outfit laid out, pants and plain shirt to go under her vest thing and the atrocious helmet Sergeant Cranky would force her to wear.

All too soon the alarm rang out and she groaned, dressing was easy and done in a matter of moments. She tucked the helmet under her arm after pulling her dark hair back into a ponytail. The tee covered her up and the vest added bulk to her otherwise thin frame. The new boots were laced up and two pairs of socks adorned her feet, Megan suggested it to help until she broke them in well. She prayed the man was in a better mood this morning and moved out of her room and to the mess hall with her crew. "This should be very interesting..." She sighed as she spotted the man with his own crew at one of the tables.

OOC: Awesome... some I kind of have a clue about like the MRE's I know those are the ready to eat type meals, at least I think so lol
 
Eric watched her go, liking the view of her form behind, even if she was just a mess of pretentious, dead weight. He sighed and went back to his platoon area. By the time he racked out for bed, he found his thoughts wandering back to Presley. Back to her slim frame, her dark piercing eyes, her facial piercing, which he found attractive...

******************

By the time Eric made it to the chow hall, he'd been up for hours. After wake up, he did PT, showered, worked on a correspondence course, checked his gear, and finally made it to chow hall. They were just finishing up. Eric checked his watch and said something quietly to the other soldiers, who stood and cleared their plates. He motioned to a table set out with honey buns, oatmeal cream cakes, granola bars & cliff bars, obviously meaning for her to grab something to eat on the road, although he, and all of his soldiers grabbed an item or two themselves.

They all filed out to the briefing area and took their seats on the benches. Most of the briefing was nothing major; it seemed to be a routine mounted recon, going about forty kilometers out, then turning around and coming back along a different route. She had some good opportunities for pictures as the lieutenant stood up in front of them, tracing their route along a map while most of the soldiers took notes about the exact route. Once the briefing was done, they randomly picked soldiers to quiz on their rules of engagement, escalation of force, recovery procedures, and actions on contact. After that, each squad lined up, and their squad leader went down the row, inspecting each soldier, another good opportunity for photos. Eric moved as a steady pace, checking their armored plates, ammunition, weapons, camelbacks, and their individual first aid kits, ensuring everything was to par. Their body armor was much heavier than hers; as well as bulkier, but the soldiers wore it, along with helmets, knee pads, gloves and ballistic glasses almost like a second skin.

After than, they loaded up in their HMMWVs. Wright quickly introduced the 'crew' to her; PFC Dale, his driver & Specialist 'Ski' Boyarski, his gunner. The other two seemed a bit aloof towards her, but at least they were ignoring her, not being actively sarcastic. The only time one of them spoke directly to her was when the told her that if he starts kicking the back of Eric's seat, to pass him another box of ammo from the back of the vehicle.

The patrol went well, although it was relatively boring (probably a good thing). They reached their turn around point and were about three quarters of the way back when it happened.

Eric's vehicle was lead truck, about fifty meters in front of the others when something on Presley's side of the humvee exploded, just off the side of the road. The blast was deafening, and powerful enough to slam the back end of the heavy, armored vehicle sideways a bit. Both windows on that side of the vehicle were scored & scarred, but they didn't break. The vehicle kept going however.

Eric was yelling, first at the driver to 'Go! Just go! GO!', then at his gunner, Ski, making sure he was okay. The humvee's speed picked-up as they cleared the kill zone, and Ski stuck an arm down to give a gloved thumbs up. They kept going as the sergeant tried to raise somebody on the vehicle's radio, finally getting pissed, slamming his fist into the radio next to him, and using his personal radio to get a hold of the other vehicles. He turned back to Presley.

"Are you okay?" he asked, yelling over the ringing everyone was hearing.
 
Toying with the backside of her piercing she questioned his gesture until her eyes found what he was meaning. The other men pocketed their items quickly while Presley took a bit to grab two granola bars and a small carton of milk to wash it down. A canteen of water was strapped to her pack and the meals he suggested were tucked away in the bag. She prayed she never had to indulge as they seemed disgusting... but that food was better than NO food at all. She ran after the men, her heavy boots almost causing her to lose her balance as she followed.

The room was large with charts and papers scattered about, she plopped her bag on the bench and crouched to retrieve her camera. She took a few shots of the man before them, tracing their rout with the tip of his finger. She even clicked a few of the men as they took notes. Though the inspection offered her more of Eric, the name she secretly referred to him as, forgetting the sergeant Wright part of things. She munched on the granola bar while she worked moving between the men to get the shots that captured him in the best light.

Even a rare offered smile that graced his face was caught as one of the men said something to him in humor, obviously. She shouldered her bag and finished her breakfast before tossing the garbage in the proper receptacle. The vehicle she was guided to, by following the men and of course snapping pictures, stood high off the ground. she snapped as they loaded into it, trying not to hold them up. Her seat was behind the sergeants, something that allowed her the best views, though the helmet she placed on her head slid down her forehead and bumped the camera away from the intended shot half the time.

Silently cursing she turned her attention to the scenery and snapped a few there as well. She had stood up to take a few shots of the caravan, the curve of her ass clearly defined in the khaki pants she wore as she crouched in the seat. The pants were thick and made of the same heavy material theirs were only not in the camouflage they sported. Thankfully when the explosion occurred she was tucked into her seat checking through her shots.She screamed, hands clenching at her breasts through the vest and at her heart. Eyes wide with terror she dropped her head to her lap to hide her tears of fright.

Unknowing to her, she'd slammed her face into the camera she clutched, leaving a bruise on the apple of her cheek. Her breath was labored and her ears rang. Barely hearing him she swiped at her face, not realizing that her tears left tracks in the dust that covered her face from the walk around their encampment. Her eyes flitted over his face, one hand still clutching the camera in her lap. She nodded trying to act brave and give him a smile. It only half twitched up before falling, her lower lip trembling. "Great..." She whispered, doubting he could hear her. She didn't think he really cared, only asked to be polite since she was the imposing person on his team.

The radio being down worried her a bit but his personal radio did the job and everyone else was safe and sound. "Does... does that happen a lot?" She asked, trying to talk over the ringing in her ears. Wasn't the helmet supposed to protect her from the loudness of those occurrences, instead it seemed to have amplified it until her ear drums wanted to burst.
 
HMMWV
Pres' seat

"4-3 vehicle is up; no casualties. Negative, we're moving. Roger." he said into his radio.

He turned to his driver.

"Keep going, and keep an eye on the engine temp, lemme know it starts movin' up."

"It happens. Usually they're bigger than that one. And sometimes they shoot at us too. But hey, at least now you have a cool story to tell people back home." he said to her before turning back to his job.

From there it was only a short drive back to the FOB. The vehicles stopped just inside the gate to allow everyone to unload & clear their weapons, while Eric went and had a short meeting with the platoon sergeant & PL. Before he left he told the driver NOT to turn off the truck, just in case it wouldn't start up again. Ski had the vehicle's heavy MG cleared, then unmounted it & loaded it into another vehicle, so Dale could drive it straight to the FOB's tiny motor pool. Other than the IED, it was a textbook patrol. Eric, and most of the other soldiers, were still riding the adrenaline wave from the blast and they were a bit twitchy & tightly wound.

Eric, unfortunately, had to go off and give multiple reports about the incident, leaving her on her own. It was hours before he was free again, finally done with all of the tasks that the incident had 'inconvenienced' him with. Well, almost all the tasks. The CO had told him that he needed to go & make sure that Presley was 'dealing with it alright'. So, after he showered & changed into a clean PT uniform and headed up to her room, opening the door.
 
Bigger... her mind couldn't comprehend. Presley stared out the window trying to imagine getting shot at. If the handsome man in front of her would cover her with his own body, shield her and fire back at them or let their bullets fall as they were apt to do, anyway they pleased. She thought on his words, is that what he thought she was there for, a cool story? She shook her head jostling the last few tears free as they continued on their destined path.

Her eyes shifted to Eric, wondering about him in her thoughts, allowing them to linger and drift. Was he only so mean because that was what made him good at his job? She'd known the group she would be with was a good group and the best at what they did, at least this was what she was told when the time came. Never, though, did she expect to feel such a disconnect between him and herself.

One of the men helped her from the vehicle, a kind gesture that received a bright smile from her lips. Her eyes found Eric's form, walking away mouth moving as he spoke with another man. She'd hoped to get some more shots of him involved with the disembarking of the vehicle, but it didn't seem to be going her way. She lifted the camera and took a few shots of the men unloading and of the damage the vehicle had received.

After a shower and some food in her belly, she felt another need pull at her. One that could have used a partner but one she was willing to go at alone. Megan had ducked out with Bates, something about town and then a giggle. She'd known they'd been dating but as long as they stayed out of her way she would be fine. Pres closed the door and slid her shorts down to the floor, followed by her top over her head. she caressed each orb tenderly and then with a pinch to each nipple she climbed on the bed as her hands continued over the rest of her curves.

A broken heart tattoo on her hip and the flash of silver as her legs opened and closed as she lay back on the bed, legs spread wide... inviting. Her mind flickered to the handsome ass hole she was assigned to. Images of him barely clad and hovering over her caused her to writhe as her fingers slid down her body. Eyes closed as she imagined her hands were his, they slid seductively down to her parted thighs, along the smooth inner flesh and then up along her outer pussy lips. The skin was smooth, hair waxed away leaving her with only a small dark patch at the very top, she felt that without it she'd look like a prepubescent child.

Her legs fell open as a hand cupped and fondled her breast, fingers circling and tightening on the puckered bud of a nipple. The other hand tugged on the silver hoop that adorned her clit before her fingers lowered to tease her wet entrance. "Eric..." She breathed out softly. When the door opened she hadn't a clue, it wasn't as if she expected anyone. but a girl had needs and when left unattended... well things could get wild.

So there she was found , spread on the bed. Legs wide, back arched and naked. Fingers between her legs and stroking her core while her other hand held her breast, cupping and fondling it for more pleasure. Her eyes were closed, but a soft intake of breath had them wide open. CAUGHT, or rather, BUSTED. She yelped and swallowed hard, her hands leaving her body to cover up. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Her voice couldn't muster anger, well not for the plunging her fingers did and mustering her desire to a near peak, her voice was breathless and soft. Her wide chocolate colored orbs centered on him and try as hard as she could... she couldn't stop trying to picture him naked.
 
Eric hadn't eaten dinner yet, but when he stepped into the room, he found himself possessing a different kind of hunger. He'd heard her say his name as he entered, but he'd had no idea why. As soon as he stepped in he knew. Even if she hadn't been laying there, spread & naked, her cheeks flush, and out of breath. Even without that, he could smell the slight scent of her arousal in the room.

For the first few seconds, we couldn't do anything but stand in the doorway, his hungry eyes roving over her body, poorly covered by her tiny hands. This was certainly giving him a new perspective on the reporter he had to babysit. Then he remembered that she'd asked him why he was here. He stepped into the room then closed the door behind him before he answered. He knew he could get in a LOT of trouble for this, but he couldn't help it; not now. Not after the day he'd had, and certainly not after seeing her bare.

"I came to check on you, see if you were okay. Seems you're a little better that okay though. A little rude to use my name without inviting me though, don't you think?" he said, his voice quiet & low.

Eric's hands went to the hem of his shirt, slowly pulling it up over his head. As the clothing moved out of the way, it slowly revealed his lean torso; muscular abs, toned pecks, and muscular shoulders as he finally got the shirt off & let it fall to the ground. He grinned a little as he sat down on her bed, facing her.

"So, am I living up to the fantasy?" he asked, his eyes locked with hers.

His hand pressed lightly against her mound, then slid downward, slipping between her hand and her wet lips. He knew he shouldn't, but he also knew that they both needed it. His fingers toyed with her lower lips and her pierced clit, but never entering her, just teasing her. Suddenly he stood up, not able to take it any longer. He kicked off his running shoes and slowly pulled down his PT shorts, revealing to her his hard cock, definitely above average in all respects.

"Move your hands." he said the words quietly, but there was a commanding undertone to it, enhanced by his eye contact.

In the back of his mind he wondered. Was this the first time she'd done this? Was he/would he live up to fantasy? Was this how she'd imagined it?
 
Pres swallowed hard, her eyes just as hungry. What was it about a near death experience that caused people to become horny? She knew now was not the time to contemplate the answers. Sitting up, hands still attempting to cover herself, even though she already knew he'd seen her. It was the fact of the matter and it gave her a bit of control. That is until he shut the door and spoke. She couldn't keep her jaw from dropping. "Invite you... You, you infuriate me! Eric is the name of my boyfriend back home..." She lied, eyes glancing away but then back as he slowly peeled the shirt from his form.

Eyes riveted on his torso, she knew he was well formed, "I... I am fine..." Her words were soft and he continued on as though she'd said nothing. Her tan cheeks had lost their blush and she sat there gawking at him. Her heart pounding in her chest, body burning and eyes telling of her desire. Her hand moved out and over his chest, stomach and shoulders. She loved a man that took care of himself. She wanted to rip the uniform off and fuck him with his pants around his ankles and his shirt wide open. Biting her lip she kept from confirming or denying him an answer as her hand drew back to cover her breasts again. Like it helped.

Sitting there she didn't stop him, or attempt to stop him as his hand went against her. Closing her eyes she released her breasts but kept her hand over her pussy. Some modesty was needed, even if his hand was touching her around her own small digits. She bit her lip hard and moaned, the bite was to keep it from going as loud as it could be. She wanted his finger in her, but more than that... His weight left the bed and his hand was gone. Heaving breaths caused her breasts to bounce as her eyes opened. "No..." She whimpered, thinking he was leaving her like this alone.

Trembling she watched his shorts drop and reveal his hardness to her. Her mouth watered from just the site, her pussy quivered in want. It was so wrong but god she needed this, needed him. Her eyes moved over all of him before the command, brown depths finding his. She gave no resistance and moved her fingers from her pussy before she spread her legs invitingly. Her hand that left her pussy reached out to him and stroked the hard, thickness of him. Her thumb caressing the ridges and slight bulges. She'd never done anything like this, had a fantasy come real. But she wanted this, wanted him and had since she laid eyes on him, but this could only be a one time thing, right?
 
All Eric did when she denied it & claimed he infuriated her was smirk. He felt the same way about her, but that didn't mean that he wasn't attracted to her. He saw her staring at her chest, similar to the way he was staring at hers, and when she touched him he felt the electricity of lust between them.

He heard her moan & felt the slightest tremble of her body at his intimate touch, which was just the the appetizer for the night's activities. Then she grabbed his cock, stroking him, and he let out a sound somewhere between a moan & a growl. It had been way too long since he'd been with a woman, thanks to deployment, and by now he was aching for her touch, aching to feel her wrapped around him. slowly he pulled free of her grip and moved around behind her on the bed. His strong arms encircled her, one going to a breast, the other going to her wet & wanting slit. Gently he slid a finger barely into her depths, stroking the length of her slit several times before coming to rest on her piercing, his mouth moving close to her ear.

"You didn't have to put on jewelry to impress me, doll." he whispered, his hot breath blowing over her neck & ear.

Each word was punctuated with a gentle tug on her piercing, and he finished with a nibble on her earlobe. His mouth moved down the slope of her shoulder, giving her several bites to the meat of her shoulder, far enough down that her shirt would cover them. Slowly he pulled his wet finger from her folds & put it in his mouth, sucking it clean with an 'mmmmm'. He wanted to tease her more, to keep dragging it out, to get her to beg for him, but as enjoyable as that would've been, he was too hot right now for any of that.

"I know I don't need to ask if you're ready, do I? If you were anymore ready we'd need a mop..." he whispered into her other ear.

Suddenly he hopped up off the bed, grabbed her by the shins and pulled her to the edge of the bed, which was the perfect height for what he planned next. He placed her spread legs on his shoulders, lined himself up with her, and slid into her tight, how, wet depths. He let out another grunt, a little louder than the previous one.

"Damn..." he let out as he hilted her with his first stroke.
 
Pres continued stroking him, root to tip. Her thumb rubbing over the smooth head and gaining his slick pre-cum to aid her actions. Smiling up at him she adored the animalistic sounds he made, it let her know her touch was welcome. Watching him back away slowly she wasn't sure if he was going to bolt or wanted to peer down at her, she knew he didn't believe her ruse of the boyfriend, his smirk was a sure sign of it. Brown eyes moved over his fit form as he drew up close behind her smaller body. Her tan flesh carried goose bumps in anticipation of the first touch of his flesh to hers. Closing her eyes she moved her head so she was fully within his embrace. Her breasts ached to know his fingers and she sighed when it happened. The entrance of his finger to her wet channel was not a surprise, nor was the tremor of pleasure that traveled her spine.

Her hips moved attempting in, silent, vain for his finger deeper. However, she recognized him teasing her. Her hands wrapped behind her. One along his neck, her fingers caressing his flesh gently while the other hand encircled his hardness again, wanting to memorize the feel. each touch would get her through the months when something like this would be impossible to accomplish. She wiggled when he touched her piercing, the pleasure building. "I..." She faltered for words, for thoughts. Doll? Oh the way he said it to her melted her a bit more.

gaining her voice as his lips lowered and he began biting at her shoulder. "I didn't, oh god... do it, shit... for you, Eric..." Each word was followed by a breathy exclamation of pleasure. Lust lidded eyes followed the fingers from her pussy to his mouth, she about came then, but instead she only trembled in his arms. Such a weak willed bitch, she thought as he spoke again. She didn't even blush, she couldn't fathom that what he said wasn't a compliment. Just the thought of remembering these moments would get her rather swampy, she was certain.

His jumping from the bed alarmed her and she panicked, thinking he was leaving her in this state. But his touch to her legs let her know he was only planning on bringing them THAT much closer. Gazing up her tan body to his she smiled, it was soft and pleasant not wide and comical. Each touch made her mind spin with desire and she thought he probably knew it. He wasted no time pulling her legs to his shoulders and slipping himself within her wet depths. Her back arched and she moaned as he grunted out his own pleasure. "Yes Eric..." He fit perfectly within her channel, god forgive her but she never wanted to NOT feel like this each time she was fucked, it was too perfect.

Her lids parted and she gazed up at his perfect face, it was a masterpiece of bliss, lust and desire. All these things combined on him to make him appear a variable Adonis. She felt her tightness flutter and pull him in further. The first stroke pleasing and causing her hands to ball into the fabric on the bed as she cried out his name in a pleased manner. "Fuck me like you mean it..." she sighed as he paused. God, she hadn't a clue what he was waiting for. This was the sexual experience of which all others would be compared to... who knew a dream could come into such a wonderful reality.
 
The way her body reacted to his every touch, his every breath, was incredible, their every touch electric. He wasn't fooling himself; neither of them liked the other, he knew this wasn't love or anything silly like that, but there was need, and their bodies seemed to fit each other perfectly. His manhood fitting perfectly into her core, a tight fit despite her wetness. And that was without her trying to pull him farther into her. Then her words reached his ears, her soft, breathy words sounding almost musical as she told him how she wanted it.

He grinned down at her, his handsome face split by his lustful grin, his dark eyes staring straight into hers.

"I'm not sure you can handle that." he said as he started to pull back for his next thrust.
"You look like a pretty delicate little thing. Think you can handle what 'meaning it' is?"

He meant his words as equal parts challenge, tease, and warning. He slowly pulled back, until only the very tip of his thick cock was still inside her, then pushed back into her at the same almost leisurely pace he'd used before, doing so another four or five fives. He pulled back again, and then suddenly slammed into her, as hard & fast as he could, setting his new pace. He pulled back and pushed into her tunnel at the new break-neck pace. Each thrust drew an animalistic grunt from him.

"God-damn, doll.." he said, barely able to speak between grunts.

He closed his eyes for a second, although the pace of his thrusts never faltered, and his smile of pure, carnal bliss never left his face. He couldn't believe how good she fit, like they were made for each other. As soon as his eyes opened, he once again locked eyes with her, his face mirroring all the desires obvious on hers; ecstasy, lust, and need

"Fuck Presley...fuck..." he said, using her name for the first time.

As he pushed into her, one of his hands moved from her thigh, to trail down her leg, to play with her piercing as he continued to push himself into her tightness.
 
Her eyes fixed on his, the nerve of him telling what she could.. "Oh, fuck." She exclaimed, letting the thought drop from her mind. Who was he to know, saucy bastard was just fucking with her mind, same as her wet pussy. "Damn right I am but I can handle whatever you throw at me... if you have it in you." She thought two could play that game. He started off with those slow unnerving thrusts, and then pulled out the big guns. Slamming home she cried out, his balls bouncing off her ass with each deep, hard, mind-blowing thrust he gave her.

Presley arched her back and moved her hips, meeting him and needing him. She was there with him, couldn't form words, only soft mewls and coos of pleasure. The smile that washed over her face was of pure bliss, he fit like a glove and slammed home in all the right spots. He felt amazing, but she wasn't about to stroke his ego and tell his cocky ass that. Eyes locking she licked her lips and moaned, god how she needed this, it didn't have to be him but it was and god that made it even more exciting and dangerous.

Her name caught her attention, she smiled. He DID know it. She almost laughed at the thought but his fingers moved down her leg to toy with her pierced clit. The hard little nub stood at attention and the first stroke caused her tight channel to clench in pleasure. "Fuck me..." She panted, thinking she maybe had control of her voice. But his touch of expertise to her clit told her that her mind was about to be blown.

It wasn't enough that he was hot as sin. That he knew how to fuck like an animal. But he also knew exactly what she needed to get her off. This wasn't love, it was the sizzle of hatred that fueled this passionate joining. She groaned as he took her higher, each thrust rocketing into her channel. "Bastard..." she whimpered. Her orgasm fastly approached, he likely knew it and hence the additional touches. "Almost... please?"

The female wasn't above begging, and he seemed like the type to want it that way. Smug asshole that he was. But she wasn't too proud to beg, hell after this round.. well, she knew where to go and what to do. After this? The audacity of her thoughts made her groan. NO, there was NO after this... this, this was a one time weakness. Another thrust, she moaned his name... maybe one more time. Her thighs shook and her channel began to clutch and quiver around his cock. "OH fuck... Eric..."
 
Eric chuckled as she challenged him. She was feisty, more so than he'd initially given her credit for, and he liked that. He liked a girl with some fire in her, at least in the bedroom. Oh, she would be fun next time. And there most certainly would be a next time. Despite their disdain for each other, he knew they were both enjoying this way too much to not have another go, especially given how stressful their environment was.

She reacted to his every touch, every thrust, every incidental contact, mewling, cooing, wriggling, twitching. She was incredible. So sensitive, so in tune with him. She licked her mouth & moaned, looking incredibly sexy as she did. Her womanhood was perfect; the perfect depth, tightness, wetness & heat. Perfect for his cock. Perfect for him. This was all so deliciously wrong; not only did he not like this broad, but if they got caught, he would be done. But that just made it more exciting.

When he started touching her piercing she clenched around him, obviously enjoying the sensation, and the increased tightness drew a growl from him, even making his pace slow slightly for a few thrusts before his pace returned to normal. He was sure she'd noticed, but he didn't care. There were very few things that mattered to him right now. And her voice as she told him what to do to her, her voice quiet & breathy, tinged with excitement, arousal & need, mirroring her face, which only made him tease her clit more intensely.

Her begging was music to his ears, there was nothing sexier than a woman telling how close she was & how bad she needed it. Not that she needed to, he was certainly going to satisfy her. Making his partner cum was a point of pride; it showed his manliness, his virility; his sexual prowess. And a woman orgasming was sexy.

When she told him how close she was, he just gave her a cocky smile as he kept thrusting into her. He knew she was close, and he was too, he doubted he'd last much past the end of her orgasm. He felt her start to clench around him, and he started to move his manhood in a tiny circle inside her as he thrust into her, thumbing her pierced clit.

"Come on Presley! Cum for me! Scream my name Presley!" he hissed through clenched teeth, on the verge of climax himself, the only thing allowing him to hold out was the fact that she hadn't yet either.
 
"Fuck," She groaned as she felt the tiny circles he began moving in. The intensity with which he toyed with her piercing and the expert moves of the male pounding her were enough to put her over the edge. But it didn't. What did do it, was his telling her to cum. Wasn't anything sexier than a hot as hell male telling her to cum on his cock, scream his name. She wanted to hold out, be the stubborn bitch he thought her to be... but she couldn't. Everything about him and this session of fucking said cum NOW dammit.

So she did.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, her fingers turned white as she clenched at the blanket covering her bed, and her pussy gripped him in a firm handshake. So tight she swore she could feel him throbbing inside her tightness.

He said for her to scream his name... she did.

"Sergeant Eric Wright..." She hadn't meant for it to be so formal, but it was. And on her behalf, the building was empty. Or well relatively so. Though if the heard they didn't come running and well who could blame them. She sounded like she was screaming mad, no one liked a screaming mad female. No ONE.

Could orgasms last a full hour? It sure as hell felt like hers did. Pulsing and shuddering, sweating and gasping. Damn, she forgot how to speak English. The female spouted off something in another language. Was is French, Spanish.. Italian? Who knew.

Presley felt him ramming into her through her orgasm, the fucker was bound and determined to leave an impression of himself on her mind. Ruin her for every sexual encounter EVER after this. Next time she was going to be on top. Show him how it felt... her mind went blank. Yeah even on top he'd find some way to ruin it for her. She grunted his name, "Eric." Followed by a whispered, "Cum dammit, stop wasting time!"

She wasn't a fool, they'd been at this a while. Like they needed to be caught... She didn't want ANYONE knowing he'd fucked her and she'd MORE than enjoyed it. His ego was already huge, the rumor mill didn't need any fresh juice to pass around.

When he did cum, she squealed. The power and magnitude of his dick taking up every bit of space before it emptied into her caused her pleasure. Fuck him! At least she was on the shot. No little Eric's to deal with, the thought actually saddened her, but she dismissed it and basked in the afterglow of mind blowing sex. Nothing he said could ruin this moment.. at least she hoped not.
 
Eric saw her do as he asked, as he wanted. Saw her eyes roll back, her fists clench, her back arch a bit, and he felt her clamp his manhood. It was like a vice, it was all he could do to keep thrusting. Her sudden scream surprised him, when he'd asked he had just figured that she would whisper or mumble it, not ACTUALLY scream it like a crazy woman. For a moment he was afraid that someone would hear, but he immediately realized that it would just sound like she was cursing his name.

"Jesus woman, no...no need to tell everyone..." he managed between gasps, not sure if she heard him, given how deep she was in the throes of passion.

He kept moving into her as she shook and gasped, although his pace dropped a little, given the increased tightness of her clenching core. Each thrust he gave was punctuated by a quiet 'fuck'. He almost lost his concentration when she started speaking in tongues, but regardless of the language, he understood the tone. He knew she was orgasming like she never had before. He kept thrusting into her, toying with her piercing, doing everything he could to extend her orgasm while holding off on his own. His hips started to tremble slightly, he was barely able to hold it in. And then she spoke.

Her damn words. There was no way he could hold out against that. He couldn't survive a smoking hot woman on his cock, telling him to fill her with his seed now. There was nothing hotter. He gave her one, last thrust, deeper than any of the others, pulling her onto his cock and holding her there as he exploded inside her. His mind went blank for several seconds as he shot his hot, thick seed into her core. he had NEVER cum like that before, and a part of him knew that he only ever would when he was with Presley. So they'd have to do it again. In his mind at least, it was just that simple.

His legs almost gave out under him, and his arms went out to support him on the bed for a moment, before he let himself fall down on the bed face up, lying with his body parallel to Presley's. He lay next to her for almost a minute, trying to get the strength back in his legs so he could walk away, a wide grin plastered on his face. He looked over at her, still grinning, and patted her firm, shapely stomach.

"Good game doll." he said, sounding a little impressed.
"SO what're you doing tomorrow night?"
 
She watched his face... it was hard to believe it but the fucking bastard's "O" face was fucking hot. I am so screwed, she thought as she watched him. her hands trailed along his hard chest when he crumpled next to her, down his stomach and just above the thick rod that gave her the biggest orgasm of her life. It was miserable to want something and not want something in the same moment.

Pulling her hands back she lay there staring at him and panting heavy, heart rocketing blood through her small frame. Her pussy still quivered, but she ignored it. She smiled at him, a softer one to his wide and crazy. His hand patting her stomach was a crazy reminder of how sad she had felt a moment ago. He didn't know, there wasn't a chance in hell. Although, he didn't ask and possibly just assumed she was on something. What about diseases?

Glaring at him she could hardly believe what he asked. "Are you out of your damn mind Eric?" She said, sitting up she ran her fingers through her hair. It was still soaked from her shower, but she needed to feel clean so another shower was a definite. "I need a shower," She stood and pulled her shorts on before rooting around for her tank top . Her hair she piled on her head. "Just... be gone when I get back... and I swear if you tell anyone... unflattering photos all around." Her voice was a hiss.

As she stormed out she realized she forgot her shower stuff... she prayed that someone had left theirs in the shower instead of facing him again. Her heart settled into a steady beat as she waltzed to the showers with a towel on her shoulder and that was it. She checked the available ones and found a bar of dried soap in one... it was soap... how dirty could soap get? She lathered the bar a few times and began washing.

Her voice lifted in song as she washed, something trapped in her head from 'the little mermaid'. Her mind cleared and she stopped singing, "Fuck..." She exclaimed, realizing the prince from that movie was named, none other than... Eric. Sergeant Eric Wright was no prince, "more like a demon..." She lamented. After what seemed like thirty rounds with the soap she felt he was off her skin and redressing she made her way back to her room.

Her eyes didn't even wander towards the area she knew his men and he slept. Saved herself an embarrassment, she was sure. Her room was empty. Her bed was still made. But dammit to all she could still smell him. She shook the covers and sprayed some perfume. It was great, except now... it smelled like him and perfume. "Oh god...." she groaned, it was the last thing she recalled saying before falling into a heavy, Eric laden sleep. It was a good night's rest.
 
He let out a slight groan when she reached down and touched his stomach, it felt...nice. And the way she smiled at him told him, without words, that it had been the event of her life. Then he said something that apparently set her off. This woman needed to calm down & not be so crazy.

She was up, bitching, and gone before he could even come up with a response. Like to ask what kind of 'unflattering' photos she could possibly have. The fact that they hated each other never really figured into his thoughts. Together, they had sex that was BEYOND great, and as far as he was concerned, that was what was important.

Once she was gone, he scowled. Of course she wanted him gone. She wanted him to walk out, when his legs were still trembling. It was several minutes before he could stand, and another minute or so to get dressed, being as his legs were still 'unreliable'. Finally dressed, he slunk out of the building and back to his platoon's billet.

Ski was standing outside his CHU, smoking a cigarette when Eric passed him, still walking a little funny. He asked where'd be been, and Eric replied without missing a beat, having already considered his answer.

"TOC, then gym. Why? Somebody miss me?"

Ski looked at him for a second then shrugged & told him no.

"Alright, I'm gonna shower & rack out. I'm sure we have a big day of protecting freedom tomorrow." he said, giving his old buddy a pat on the back as he ducked into his CHU to get his soap & towel. It was a short walk to the shower trailer, which, of course, was out of hot water. He took a quick, cold shower, probably good given the circumstances. He quickly soaped up, using it for his hair also, then rinsed & toweled off, humming tunelessly. Regardless of how it had ended, it was still a good night.

He returned to his CHU, the one he shared with no one since his former roommate had been permanently sent back to the 'states for a pre-existing medical condition. Eric stripped down to his briefs and laid down in his bunk, commiting every curve, crease & crevice of Presley's body to memory as he drifted to a very nice sleep.
 
The next day was a change of pace for Eric's platoon. Due to their damaged vehicle, they were switched from day missions to force protection; also known as perimeter guard. They divided the platoon into three eight-hour shifts, and assigned them to guard towers on the wall of T-barriers Eric had finished his shift, and had spent it thinking about Presley. Or more precisely, how she'd kicked him to the curb the night before. How dare she? He knew that she'd enjoyed it at least as much as him. Why would she get so mad when he suggested another liason? It didn't matter. He had a plan for her. One that he would bring about later that night.

So he waited. He ate, showered, used the sub-dial-up speed internet in the MWR center, and checked in with a couple of the soldiers still on guard duty, bidding his time. Finally he couldn't wait, and quietly ascended the stairs to Pres' room.
 
Presley groaned and smacked at her alarm. The door opened and the light flicked on, "What the hell is that smell? Damn stuff been bugging my nose all night." Megan said tossing her stuff off to the side before stripping down and getting dressed.

"I dunno..." Pres lied, and headed to the drawers housing her clothing.

"Liar... I think you got a bit friendly with yourself... I heard you moaning in your sleep and whimpering." The female teased her.

"Shut up, that is so not true!" Pres said, her face turning red. Her mind flicked to Eric, bare above her and pounding her hard. She had to bite her lip to keep from moaning.

"Whatever..." The female stated and finished dressing.

"How was your night?" Pres said pulling on her underclothes and then jeans and a clean tee shirt while the female filled her in on a few of the details. It was nothing spectacular, at least not when compared to her own night with Eric. The thought of him made her pussy quiver with want. Why the hell was she so stubborn and denied him tonight? They both wanted it, needed it and fuck... it was good.

So good, if she kept it up... her pants would need to be changed.

Leaving the room she moved about with her camera, the guard duty did not include her so she wandered around and took pictures of whatever she found interesting. Eric was in a few of the shots, how could she not with him looking as good as he did. Keeping her shades over her eyes she squatted and got an awesome shot of him peering out over the terrain. She couldn't speak to him, and instead avoided him like the plague.

Which was fine since he seemed to be avoiding her too. She ate early for each meal and got together with her team and had a long planning meeting. Playing cards with some of the men she relaxed and allowed herself to have some fun before turning in early. She was worn out, the action of the night before had her yawning. Turning back the covers she slid into a good sleep. The soft cotton shorts and tank she wore to bed prevented her fingers from wandering as she slept.

With long dark hair fanned out over the pillow and across her face she slipped into a sound sleep. Her roommate took one look and sniffed, then gathered a change of clothes and snuck away. Presley stirred in her sleep before settling back against the pillows. Her mind settling on Eric, she didn't hear the door open or close behind the male as he snuck into her room.
 
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