It Was The Ptsd She Said Part 3

It was the PTSD she said, Part 3

Copyright Catcher 22 all right's reserved.

Author's note: Story regards a young couple unable to deal with his life at the end of the Vietnam war. I emulate stream of conscious writers like Ken Kesey, Faulkner, Kerouac and Lawrence Ferlinghetti. Please don't give me a ration of shit if I fall short the mark. This guy commented on one of my stories and in eight years he had 32,000 comments, that's 333 comments a month, 33 per day. Another guy claimed to be a disabled veteran, like the first guy has never written a single word. Comment away, I do appreciate constructive words. First is all teed up to go

In part one a young married sailor returning early from pre-cruise (Carrier Qualifications for pilots) as part of an Attack Squadron (A-7B) aboard the USS Oriskany CV-34 to discovered his young wife getting fucked in their tiny duplex. It had been going on for some. He banishes her and he attends college and finally meets another beautiful woman only to discover that he was the instrument of a woman's premarital fling. He is successful financially, but in no other way.

In part two Teddy meets Carrie-Anne and surrounds him in love. Her boys want a new dad too.

The reunion was at the Ballard Elks Club on Shilshole looking out at the Olympics across the beautiful Puget Sound. It had been a restaurant, but was a perfect venue for a reunion.

We arrived around eight thirty. The sun was still quite visible given day light savings time and the true distance to the north that Seattle is, compared to Maine for example.

We both bought some local brewed beer, she took something called Ballard Bitter and I got a Lush IPA from Fremont Brewery.

We had made love earlier in the day and last night. She pinned me to the mattress, covered with Egyptian cotton sheets. She begged me to take it slow and I did, then she was on top and was using me like a dildo suction cupped to the floor, just hammering my pelvis with her big old ass, the smack of our flesh like drums, I gave in and was lifting and pushing my seven inches into her glorious cunt, she smelled incredible, I wanted to bury my face in her cunt, eat her ass, give her hickies.

Carrie-Ann lost it coming hard on my dick her arms and head thrashing about. Her tits were going in circles and banging into each other and she was almost done when I came, which caused her to come again.

We were standing there and murmuring about the sunset to each other and this short bald guy, came up and stared at the name tag on my Hawaiian shirt.

"Teddy? It's me Pete Eakins."

I smiled and shook his hand and said, "Carrie-Ann this is my best friend in high school and grade school too, Pete Eakins.

"On the school website you're listed as missing."

"Pete this is the first time I've been back in twenty nine years. Family is gone, I got divorced and went to Cal Long Beach played ball, got my grad degree all after the Navy."

"How was the baseball?"

"Lifelong friends, Coach Gonsalves and his wife saved me and I had a huge year my sophomore year and then some prospects got in the way, but I had a good game in the NCAA regional."

Carrie-Anne said, "He had not played all year and the guy in front of him got hurt and he ran in from the bullpen and hit two homers and the team won, two to nothing, "I looked at her and she said, "What I can't google about my man, " with a big smile on her face as her arm snaked around me.

I kept talking, "Worked for State Street in Boston and then in London, mostly analytics and then home. I'm living in Ballard now with Carri-Anne and her sons. I'm happier than I've ever been."

Then Hannah was in front of me, arm in arm with Frank Knutzen, a total ass wipe who built model airplanes for Boeing.

Hannah launched a broadside at me as if she was the USS Missouri, firing sixteen inch guns, "I've wondered if you'd found help for your PTSD, didn't I say that Franky?"

I'd had this response in my head, since I dropped her off at the Fresno Airport.

"Jesus Hannah, how in hell are you? The lasting image of you I have is you on all fours taking your lover's eighteen inch dick, deep into your womb after I kicked his nuts into your sloppiness when I returned early from duty on the Oriskany. Christ did you have twins or triplets?"

She fled from the scene.

Franky said, "That was uncalled for and a lie. It didn't work out. Be a man."

I shook my head and said, "Well I don't have PTSD and if you want I have a signed deposition from our neighbors. Twins or Triplets, which was it?"

"Twins."

"If you want you can do a DNA test I'm certain they're not mine. I'd been at sea for some time when I caught her.

Carrie-Anne had slipped away and across the room she was taking to Hannah holding her hands in hers.

Eventually they both came over and Hannah came up to me and apologized to me and I patted her shoulder and said, "It was long ago. I'm glad you're happy."

Four months later, Carrie-Anne and I were married at a private wedding at Snoqualmie Falls Lodge.

We bought a bigger home several blocks away from her house. See we had twin boys.

End