The Awaening of Angel

16 Aug 2:07 PM

Circe

The mood around the farmhouse was somber and I felt like dirt. Lots of people had tried to cheer me up but there I sat on the couch wishing I could undo things and take stuff back. My eyes were puffy from all the crying. The back door slammed and a young soldier clomped into the room and heavily dropped his gear.

"Hello ma'am."

I looked closer at him and felt a slight flush of embarrassment.

"Hi. Aren't you the one that the jumpsuit hit when I threw it out the window?"

Now it was his turn to feel sheepish. And he purposefully looked above my head, trying to avoid even appearing to glance near my chest. That little action made me laugh a little on the inside and I felt a little better too.

"Yes ma'am, that was me."

"What's your name?"

"Witkowski ma'am."

"No, your nickname. You have one don't you?'

"Yes ma'am. It's Dim."

This was another one that was beyond me. Why couldn't I figure these out? He saw the confused look on my face.

"People used to call me Wit and then someone tossed Dim in front of it. Dim Wit."

"Oh I'm so sorry. That must be so humiliating."

It was his turn to look confused.

"No, not at all ma'am. I'm proud of it."

"I don't get it. How can you be proud of it? Aren't they making fun of you?"

"Well yes and no ma'am. It's part of becoming accepted into the team."

"You military people just confuse me."

"I don't know all the psychobabble behind it ma'am but I know how it works. And outsiders call it hazing but it's not based on violence or cruelty like they think. It's a test to see how you will react. If you go bonkers and get angry then they know you will never fit in. And the tests differ. Sometimes it's a name, other times it's a practical joke, and sometimes it's physical. In each case if you embrace whatever it is and laugh about it then you are in."

"Is it just this team that does that Dim?"

"No ma'am, it's a universal thing. All the branches do it."

Dim stopped talking and put his hand to his earpiece.

"Chopper's inbound ma'am - and the boss is onboard." With that Dim retrieved his gear and was out the door.

Considering my past inappropriate actions I decided it best if I just sat quietly and patiently and waited for Tillman to come to me. Within a few minutes I heard a helicopter landing near the house. Strangely enough there was no flurry of activity like there had been when the terrorist leader arrived. I wondered why the difference. Maybe it was just Tillman's leadership style that made the difference. The back door opened and I recognized Tillman's voice. A primal urge within me wanted to leap up and run into the kitchen, but I was determined to sit and wait. I desperately wanted to know about Alexandra. He spent a few minutes talking to Zombeek and a few others and then walked into the living room. I was shocked at his appearance and at first I was afraid that he had been wounded, until I realized that it was just exhaustion. He stood in front of me but did not sit.

"Angel, there are some things I still need to get done but first I want to say that I'm glad you are okay. Secondly I want to apologize for getting you into this mess. Thirdly I want to let you know that Alexandra pulled through. It was touch and go for a bit but Doc says the hard part is over. Lastly I need to apologize because I know I owe you an explanation but I need to debrief the team first. Once I've done that then I will be at your disposal for however long you need."

"Of course Teacher." I mouthed the word Teacher but didn't vocalize it. "But may I ask one question before you go?"

"Yes of course."

"Well Alexandra is going to need care during her rehabilitation, isn't she."

"Yes, for quite a few months."

"I thought so. Then I have a request that I hope you'll say yes to."

"Go ahead."

"Once she leaves the hospital I'd like her to stay with me so that I can help her and take care of her during her recuperation. Please?" For good measure I bit my lower lip.

His eyes got a faraway look and tears formed in the corners and then he did something totally unexpected. He leaned down stroked my hair and kissed me on the forehead.

"Yes you may, if that's what she wants, and I'm sure she will. You have no idea what this means to me. And to you for that matter."

"What do you mean?"

"It's another discovery Angel. Another step. You care about someone besides just you."

With that he left the room to debrief the team. How many times could I be stunned by this man? I mulled over what he said and thought about my past relationships and just how shallow they had really been. For so many years I had believed that love was demonstrated in kisses and hugs and sex. In my mind it had been this warm and fuzzy feeling and that's how you knew you were in love. Now I had found out what true love meant and it had been taught to me by a bunch of strangers. True love means always putting the needs of the other person ahead of your own. I came to the conclusion that this was love in its' purest form and that it just has different applications. There is the application of husband and wife. And then parent and child. Another would be extended family and close friends would fall in there as well. And lastly is the love you feel for others that you don't even know.

Some people might call it compassion but I say it's love. What else would cause a missionary to leave a life of comfort behind to go work in a leper colony in Africa? What else would motivate police officers and the military to protect those they've never met, and in some cases people in other countries? What about firefighters, medical people, mental health professionals and social workers? You see, if you look at the root of all of those you will find love, just with different applications and nuances. This team had shown me love by risking their lives to save mine. Now I'm sure if you asked them they would never say it was out of love that they did it. But you tell me, what else makes any sense? Yes there are a few who are sociopaths and love the killing but the people I'd met seemed to be just everyday people doing a job. And I'd discovered that I loved them. Not because they rescued me. It was because of how selfless they were. You couldn't help loving them once you got to know them and boy I sure did.

Tillman had gone out to the barn to do the debrief and had been out there for nearly an hour. I puttered around the house, got something to eat and drink, and absently thumbed through an old copy of House and Home magazine. The pictures of domestic life touched a chord with me and I felt a certain emptiness. No, that wasn't the right word. Yearning, I felt a certain yearning for the home life that was portrayed. Maybe because I never had that home life due to the abuse, and deep down inside I desperately longed for a home.

There was a marked increase in the activity outside with people picking up equipment and vehicle engines starting then Zombeek stepped inside.

"What's going on Zombie?"

"We're bugging out ma'am. Standing down. Boss wants me to escort you out to the Blackhawk. You're flying out with him."

"So quick? I mean I thought I'd have to time to thank everyone."

"No need ma'am. You already have."

"What? No I haven't."

"Yes you have, the coffee, cooking breakfast, and how you've interacted with everyone."

"But that was nothing!"

"No it was everything. It meant more to all of us than you'll ever know, but we don't have time right now. I need to get you to the helo so come on."

Tillman was waiting at the helicopter and he helped to get me strapped in.

"We're going to my place. I've had some of your clothes delivered and we can get cleaned up and then talk. It will be too noisy to talk enroute so just try to enjoy the scenery."

They left the door open and the helicopter lifted off and the view truly was spectacular as was the experience. Here I was, little ole me, riding in a military helicopter with a military crew. The ride was over way to soon and we set down next to a road where Tillman's limo was waiting. The sight of the limo was comforting in a bizarre sort of way. I guess because it lent a sense of normalcy after the past few days of danger.

Tillman held the door of the limo open for me while I climbed in and he sat beside me. As the car pulled away I decided to sit quietly and wait for Tillman to speak as I knew he must have been under extreme stress these past few days. As the miles went by I became aware that his breathing had deepened and at that moment his head settled on my shoulder. He was asleep. I was thankful for that since I was well aware of his insomnia and night terrors. His warmth radiated to me and with it his scent, or should I say the smell of his sweat and body odor. Some women would say he stank but to me it was wonderful. All that odor was from his exertions saving me and taking care of his team. Some girls want a Knight in Shining Armor and I had one, except he was a Soldier in Stinky Fatigues, and I found it to be just about the most erotic thing I had ever experienced, and the wetness between my legs seconded the motion.

Let's get one thing clear here. I am not a Damsel in Distress in my daily life. But just scant hours earlier I needed someone to rescue me because I was totally helpless to do anything about it. And that was a new discovery for me, that you can be very strong and yet need help sometimes. It doesn't make you a weak person to need help, it just means that you may not have the expertise to deal with the situation in front of you. Do I need a man in my life to complete me? No I don't think so. But do I want a man, this man, in my life? Hell yes! Because he helps me be a better person and I want to help him be better as well. As I sat there with him drooling on my sleeve I felt more contentment than I ever had in my whole life. And yes, the drooling was yucky, but when you love someone, sometimes it gets yucky.

16 Aug 5:13 PM

Tillman

The pillow I had my head on was a little hard and yet not uncomfortably so. Oh, and contrary to popular opinion, helmets make pretty good pillows. I cracked my eyes to see where I was because I had been in such a deep sleep I lost track. In front of my eyes and a little below was a woman's button up shirt. The shirt was moving up and down in a most enticing fashion. Oh, tits. The front of the shirt opened slightly to reveal part of a beautiful breast unhindered by a bra. Then suddenly I realized it was Angel and I had drool running from my mouth. I quickly shut my mouth and stopped the flow but I didn't want to stop the show. So I continued to pretend to sleep so that I could keep looking at her breast, what I could see of it anyway. It was then that the gods smiled on me and she reached up to adjust her shirt, but rather than pulling it closed she pulled it open and I could see her whole breast. Under normal circumstances I would have seen the action as odd and out of place, but I was just happy to be staring at her tit.

I should take this moment to answer a question I'm often asked by women. Why are men so fascinated with and turned on by women's breasts? Well the short answer is that I don't know and don't care. But if you need an explanation then I do have my own theories. One is that you keep them hidden and they are a no touch, no look area and we are fascinated by things we can't see or touch. If all had a fist sized knot between their shoulder blades and made it a no touch no look area then we would be obsessed with seeing it and touching it. Just think about cultures where the women are topless all their lives. There is no real sexual connotation to breasts in those societies.

Also you wrap them up for us like a pretty package to be unwrapped, with bows, and lace, and ribbons. And the wrapping paper even shows what's inside sometimes. And you entice us with little glimpses of the wrapping paper, like a gift peeking out from underneath the Christmas tree skirt.

Plus when you enter a room they precede you and so they are always the first thing we see of you.

Add to that the fact that they are something we don't have. Every guy out there has fantasized about having breasts and a vagina for an evening, just so we would know what it feels like from the other perspective. It would probably make us better lovers as well. Of course our fantasy has a limited duration since no man has a desire to see what a period feels like. We all hear women talking about being proud about having periods and it's a sign of womanhood and truthfully we think that's a pile of BS. It's like us saying that being bald makes us sexy. But hey, maybe you are proud of your periods and that's okay. Growing up as a kid I always had the impression that girls would be better horse riders and swimmers if they used tampons.

We also like tits because of the variety. There's nothing in the world that comes in so many different sizes, shapes, designs, and colors. Well maybe penises but I'm no expert on that. And you ladies wrap them up so nicely and we can't wait to unwrap them and see what's inside.

And one other side note ladies. Don't let porn and the fashion industry dictate your body image. No matter how you are built there are millions of guys who like your body type. Think you need a thigh-gap to be pretty? There's millions of guys who prefer thighs to be touching all the way to heaven. Think you need big tits to be beautiful? Nope. Tons of guys like women with tiny breasts. Are you 96 pounds? Are you 250 pounds? There's guys that like that. Some of us aren't that interested in a particular body type - we are more interested in the woman inside. Which leads me back to Angel. Yes she was smokin' hot, but most of her hotness came from who she was on the inside.

So here I sat, all self-righteous about not caring about body types, and staring at her tits. Boobs, hooters, knockers, fun bags, bazoombas, tata's, Bristols (for our British friends). There are hundreds of euphemisms for breasts, so it shows how much we love them. And I loved these right at the moment.

"Enjoying the show?"

"Yeah, uh huh? No, I mean what?'

"You fell asleep and I think we are almost to your place."

"Oh, okay. Sorry about falling asleep and uh, sorry about your sleeve."

"It's okay, it's not the first time I've had some of your fluids on me."

That last statement took me aback and I felt my face flush in embarrassment. All I could do was clear my throat and sit back. She was right about being close to the house and within a few moments we had pulled up in front. We walked up the steps and once inside I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. Perhaps it was the realization that Angel was safe. And yet I felt a sense of guilt that it had happened in the first place. It was dangerous for anyone to be near me.

"Let's get cleaned up and then I will be at your disposal. I had a number of outfits brought over from your house so I hope they are to your liking. They are in the guest room and I believe you know the way."

"Teacher?"

"Tillman. Please."

"I have a demand that is non-negotiable."

"Demand? Non-negotiable?"

"Yes, demand and non-negotiable, based on the life or death situation I was placed in."

Well she had me there. I really felt guilty.

"Very well. What is your demand?'

"You sir, are exhausted, and in no way capable of a coherent discussion and I'm exhausted as well. I'm going to go take a shower, as are you, and then we'll meet in your bedroom and sleep. No hanky-panky whatsoever. I just feel a little insecure at the moment and don't want to be in bed alone."

What could I do? Anyway, I had no intention of hanky-panky. Even though I was incredibly wrapped up in Angel I couldn't let things progress. I couldn't bear another Victoria event. I nodded dully and headed to my room where I stripped off my gear and stepped into the hot shower, where I promptly fell asleep.

16 Aug 6:25 PM

Circe

Standing in the shower I pondered my next steps. I truly was exhausted and wanted to sleep but I found myself spending a little more time than normal cleaning certain areas. Rub a dub dub, scrub my little nub. Ha ha! Yes I wanted to make love to him and yet he seemed distant. Hope arose somewhat in the fact that I had caught him looking at my breasts in the limo, but he also hadn't allowed me to call him Teacher. I stepped out of the shower, patted myself dry, and brushed my teeth which felt really grungy. Without any makeup available about all I could do was dry my hair and put it in a ponytail. For whatever reason Tillman seemed to react positively when my hair was done that way. I looked at the clothes that had been brought over but nothing seemed right for sleeping. I rummaged through the dresser drawers and found a men's football jersey that was blue with white lettering. It fit just right and was tight enough that my breasts were evident and it came about halfway to the knee. It showed enough leg to be sexy and yet was long enough that it didn't blatantly scream 'Fuck me!' I pulled on some white lace boyshort panties which fit just right and headed to Tillman's room.

The shower was still running so I pulled down the covers and climbed into bed. Some people take long showers and I figured he was one of those. I laid there for a while and then saw movement at the door. It was Roxie and she quickly padded over to me and sniffed me. It was like a 'just checking to see if you are okay sniff' and she seemed satisfied. I scratched her under her chin, which really isn't smart with a war dog, but I felt like I had a relationship with her now.

"How's it going girl? I sure appreciate how well you take care of him. I hope that one day we can be a team."

Roxie licked my hand as if she agreed and then she turned to look at the door to the bathroom and ran over and pawed quickly at the door. My heart leapt to my throat in fear. I was through the door in an instant and saw that Tillman was slumped down in the bottom of the shower. I let out a little scream and jumped into shower turned off the water and tried to pull him out, but he was wet and dead weight. I thought if I could get my arms around his chest I could lift him up. My right ear was next to his face and I lifted with all my might.

"What are you doing Angel?"

"What! Are you okay?!"

"Yeah I just fell asleep in the shower. Happens sometimes."

Instinctively I slapped him hard on the face.

"Damn you Tillman! You scared me to death! I thought you were hurt! Or worse!"

"I'm sorry, it happens sometimes. The stress takes a lot out of people."

He had tears in his eyes and for the bazillionth time in our relationship I felt like dirt.

"Well come on then. Let's get you dry and in the rack. That's the right term isn't it?'

"Roger that."

I made him stand still and grabbed one of the big white fluffy towels from the heated rack and slowly dried him off, starting with his back. I wanted the rubbing of the towel to relax him and I wanted him to feel pampered. Plus it gave me an opportunity to examine his body in detail. After all, he had examined mine so many times before, so this was only fair play. There was not an ounce of fat on him and the muscle underneath his skin was taut and emanated an incredible amount of strength. In fact it rippled as he moved and more than once I allowed my fingers to trace along a few of those sinews. I had no doubt that he could snap a neck or trim a rose with equal precision. I moved around to face him and made him bend down so that I could dry his hair. In that moment he softened. I flashed to an image of a little boy and his mom drying his hair after a bath and maybe he had the same image. And yes I dried all of him but did not linger on the areas you were hoping I would. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to. I wanted to grab his cock in my hand and get him hard and then guide him into my wet pussy. But this was neither the time nor the place, much to my disappointment.