Army Exploits Series: Barracs Rat

Army Exploits Series

Even those who never served in the military are probably mindful of how unique the life of an enlisted person must be. As a veteran of seven years, I can certainly bear witness. Most could not imagine, though, that finding romance or even occasion for casual sex can, itself, be an exceptional challenge.

Without fail, every time I share any of my sordid tales of intimate congress while in the Army, people are overwhelmingly shocked and enthralled. Hopefully, with this series of short stories that I'm calling "Army Exploits," I can stir up a little amusement, curiosity and lust or possibly encourage others to write about their time in service.

My goal is to share authentic experiences, warts and all, as best as I can remember them. I'm not wanting to over embellish or try to make myself out to be a hero or gigolo. This won't be in chronological order, either. My expectation is to submit stories as inspiration dictates. I always welcome comments, criticism, feedback of any kind. Thanks, and I hope you enjoy.

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This will be the third and final chapter of this tale of a gullible GI and his stammering seductress. If you haven't checked out

Barracks Rat

and

Barracks Rat 2

, I would recommend staring there so you don't miss anything. For those who might be sensitive to the subject, I must warn that this segment gets a little darker. There is some BDSM, and if that's not your flavor, I won't be offended if you pass. Everyone else, I hope you have fun reading and keep an eye out for more from

Army Exploits

.

Barracks Rat 3

"Nunan, see me after formation," instructed Sergeant First Class, Garrett. His normally jovial Wisconsin accent could not hide his frustration with me being late coming back from lunch. He went on with his normal end-of-day brief and set the agenda for tomorrow.

"Platoon... ...Attention!" He barked and then he dismissed us, ending our day's work. His glare cut hard through the gaggle of soldiers making their way to the parking lot. My day wasn't over. I was sure I'd have a little rigorous exercise and a stern ass-chewing before I would be permitted to pack it in.

He didn't move from his spot. Hotly, he instead pointed with the classic knife hand gesture to a spot about three feet in front of him. I shuffled over and snapped to parade rest, nervous about my fate.

"Alright, fuck-stick, you better have a damn good excuse showing up late." He bellowed. "And I mean you better have broken your neck or banged a centerfold."

I couldn't help but snicker. After all, he had an uncanny mastery of profanity. My brief break in military bearing was only going to get me in deeper trouble, but for God's sake he was hilarious.

"Something funny, shitbag?"

"No, Sar'nt, I'm sorry." I said, as I composed myself.

"Well?" he growled.

"Sorry, Sar'nt, I just dozed off and forgot to set an alarm. Won't happen again." I muddled.

He scowled at me for a painfully long time, letting me bathe in my shame. A subtle interrogation tactic which goads you to keep talking and possibly further incriminate yourself. I didn't fall for it, just stood stiff, eyes forward.

"Bullshit!" he quipped. "You know what? Let's have a quick barracks inspection. Think I might find some contraband?"

"Fuck!" It thought. I was busted. Somebody must have snitched. Time to change my strategy. Keeping up the farce would just bury me further. Perhaps if I came clean, I could plead for mercy.

"Um... ...uh... ...Sa'rnt, I uh..." I stammered.

"You got something to say, shit stain? You better spit it out now." He warned.

"I... ...it's a girl. Um... ...I was with a girl at lunch." I confessed. "She's up still there in my room."

"Is that a fact?" He said, almost sadistically. "You've got some cum-guzzling tramp up there freeloading on government property. Do you have any idea how much shit you can get into for that?" He inquired rhetorically, pacing back and forth in front of me.

"Yes, Sa'rnt." I replied out of reflex. Fact is, I knew it was wrong, but had no idea how bad it was, or could be. I couldn't possibly know if she was anybody's daughter, wife, sister. Suppose, for instance, my battalion commander's daughter, who was supposed to be away at college was all along getting defiled by one of his soldiers just a few yards away from where he worked.

Sergeant Garrett stopped in front of me and grabbed a hand full of my uniform, pulling me close to him. A few inches from his face, I could smell his breath, and with it the gravity the moment.

"Answer the next few questions very carefully." He scowled. "Is she over eighteen?

"Yes, Sa'rnt." I affirmed.

"She had better not be living here." He stated.

As I shook my head, he loosened his grip and stepped back. He then fished a cigarette pack out of his pocket and went through the ritual of lighting up. Taking his first drag, I could see that his demeanor had lightened.

"Big titties?" He asked with a half-smile.

I reciprocated his tone and body language. "Huge," I blurted out. "Sweet little turd cutter too." I added.

"Aw, bullshit!" He joked. "I bet anything she's got an ass like a city bus and a face like a mud fence, I guarantee. You, dumbass privates are all the same. First time you drag your pathetic little pecker through something, you think you found the love of your life. Wait until you find out she's seen more shaft than a West Virginia coal miner and has six dismounts to show for it."

I furrowed my brow. Dismount, I understood, was a scout cavalry term for a soldier outside of a troop carrier. Not sure how that was pertinent.

"Kids, dipshit. She got any kids? He teased.

"Oh! No Sa'rnt, no kids," I replied.

"You better be careful; pack a raincoat. Seriously, wrap that shit up." He said, shaking his head. "Don't want to come home with the drip, or whatever the hell else is out there. Plus, if you end up knocking her up, I swear to God, life as you know it will be over. She's going to want a ring." Chuckling, he said, "Before you know it, you got a full blown dependa-potimus on your hands."

"Dependa-what?"

Throwing his hands up, he huffed, "Goddamn, Private, you really are wet behind the ears." As if quoting from Merriam-Webster, "Dependa -- Military spouse and subsequent brood. If a bitch like that gets their hooks in ya and they see all that extra cash and benefits you'll be raking in, you won't ever get rid of her. Then you'll find out that baby weight doesn't come off so easy. Best case you are lucky enough and she doesn't become a land manatee overnight. Then there's the other thing. Your little blushing bride comes with baggage. A whore can't change her stripes. Every time you go on deployment, she'll be getting turned out by some other idiot private and blowing all your money on her new side piece.

Concerned, I said, "Shit, Sarge, what should I do?"

"Look, kid, I don't expect you to live like a monk. Hell, I've been there, barracks life is shit. When it comes to pussy, you don't exactly have many choices." He consoled. "All I'm saying is be careful. You don't want to spend eighteen years trying to pay off a few minutes getting your dick wet"

"Yes, S'arnt, I'll be careful." I replied.

"Now, get the fuck out of here, private... ...police up all these butts, first." He said, dismissively. Flicking his onto the pavement in front of me, he added. "Start with that one." Before he left, he turned back and warned, "God's sake, don't get caught hiding your whore in my barracks."

* * * * * *

My chore didn't take very long, but the whole time I fumed. I just knew, she was spotted outside my room, even though I specifically told her not to be. Her dumb ass got me busted and it could have been way worse if the wrong person found out.

I stormed up the stairs to my room and threw the door open. There, I found her sitting in

my

chair, watching

my

tv and talking on

my

phone. I went from angry to livid in an instant.

"Get your shit and get the fuck out," I yelled.

"Wa-wa-what's wrong?" She whimpered, ending her call and giving me her full focus.

"You know damned well." I lashed back as I stripped out of my gear getting ready to shower off the funk of a long day working in the hot Texas sun.

"Somebody saw you outside the room and it got back to my platoon sergeant. I could have really gotten into some deep shit."

Obviously shaken by my rage, she stammered "Bu-but I..."

Angrily, I cut her off. "Shut your cock holster." Disrobed down to a pair of boxer shorts, I grabbed a pair of rubber flip-flops and slipped into them. "'I want you gone by the time I get out."

When the door slammed behind me, I did feel a little remorse for the way I was acting. Never have I spoken to someone like that. Sure, I had every right to be mad, but that was a way overboard.

By the time I was rinsing the shampoo out of my hair, I heard the bathroom door shut again. Assuming she was attempting to plead her case, I turned my back to the shower curtain. I was willing to hear her out, just wanted to stick it to her some first. The curtain parted and she slunk in behind me.

When I turned to face her, she was already on her knees. That floor that I wouldn't walk barefoot on, she was down on, groveling. She meekly lifted my spongy cock with her fingertips and completely incased it with her mouth.

My anger was soon taking a back seat to my curiosity. I was interested to see how this played out. Not only had she not been very enthusiastic when came to giving skull, but I hadn't quite gotten to cleaning that area yet. The dreadful funk coming from my groin had to be enough to make a buzzard gag.

Undeterred, she persisted, sucking my limber penis stretching it out as her head retreated, working to get me hard. It felt amazing; that is, until I became fully erect. That's when I found out that fellatio was not exactly her forte.

Her tiny mouth looked comical trying to pleasure me. She wasn't producing much saliva, which did not help. Her technique was piss-poor to say the least. After about the third or fourth time banging into a molar, I took control of the situation.

I took a handful of her hair, now crimson and dewy from the steam and pulled her head toward mine. When our faces met, I gave her the most gawdy, porn-inspired kiss I could, forcing my tongue down her throat. Just as she started kissing back, I halted and forced her back to her knees.

"Now, open!" I commanded, and she quickly obeyed.

I aimed my now throbbing cock at the back of her throat and shoved forward. Her reflex was to tighten her throat as I entered, keeping me from getting past her mouth. She gagged and choked before I withdrew. Again, I pulled her back up to suck face. Returning her back to kneeling, she had picked up on the pattern and dutifully opened her mouth for more punishment.

We went back and forth a few times until I felt it lost its novelty. It seemed like she was getting more aroused with the mistreatment. No doubt, I was amused.

Forcing her back to her feet by her hair, I clutched her thighs and hoisted them up around my waist. Pinning her against the tile wall, I poised for penetration. She was not ready. What little moisture her mouth left on my cock would provide the only aid to the inevitable friction between us. This was going to hurt... ...both of us.

I snaked my hands under her knees and pushed them against the wall, suspending her there. Her malleable hips made this effortless. "Miss High Kick," I thought. That sure came in handy. Simultaneously, I rammed up and let her fall into my lap. The force of my thrust added to her body weight collided brazenly against her dry pussy. Though I felt my shaft bend, ultimately, it torpedoed forcefully into her birth canal.

Such a terrifying scream trumpeted from her dainty throat that it scared me at first. Afraid of not only somebody noticing there was a woman in here, but that I might be murdering a woman in here, I cupped my hand over her mouth. I kept pumping as her muffled cries echoed off the shower walls. The mutual pain of initial impact gave way to rapture. Wrapped by carnal desire, she was savoring every moment of the onslaught. My little shrinking violet, normally quiet as a church mouse in bed, was alive, enthralled by the penalty I was exacting upon her.

Thundering away at her body, impinged between me and the wall, her pussy began to weep with juices. Relentlessly, I pounded with the full force of every muscle I had, taking full advantage of the superior traction from my flip flops. Fueled by rage, my pace doubled. Before long, exhaustion would overtake me, but I could feel my ejaculate bubbling up from within me.

I was strictly disciplined not to let even a drop of spunk near her womb. The urge to loose my load built exponentially with each thrust until I could not hold back. Ordering her back to her knees, I pulled out and stroked fervently at the base of my shaft. She fell dutifully into place, and without direction looped her arm underneath those heaving breasts, preparing for her string of pearls. I grunted loudly as my manhood spasmed forth a mighty blast of cum, which splashed against her neck and tailed off over her shoulder.

She didn't faulter, instead holding her pose and urging me on. "Yes, daddy," she panted. "I want your cum."

I leaned closer in order to grant her request. A second pulse let loose a rope landing diagonally across her lips mucking her eyelashes. Subsequent miserable blobs fell haplessly on her tits. With both hands she squeezed them together, sopping up the mess, giving me quite a little show before she turned focus back on me.

Unwilling to let my orgasm wane, she lunged forward, latching onto my head with her mouth and exchanging my hand with hers. Even as my member relented, she stoked the flames until the sensation boiled over. Catatonic with elation, I arched my back making way for the steamy water to wash over us both. When I could take no more, I withdrew, feeling nearly crippled.

When finally composed, I goaded her to stand and join me. I pressed her body against mine and we passionately kissed again. The taste of my semen on her lips only made me feel shame for what I had just put her through. My heart softened faster than my penis, although I kept up a stern façade.

Clutching her taut ass and squeezing her soft tits against me, I was reacquainted with the benefits of having her around. So, yeah, I folded. I let her stay. Letting her stand under the jets, I rinsed her off before dismissing her.

"A beer would be nice." I gruffly added. Going back to the business of washing up, I carried on as if nothing had happened.

"Okay," she meekly replied.

Something, in fact, did happen. I had just thrown the most brutal fucking into her after treating her like total garbage and she was eating it up. She was so turned on; she was practically beaming. Shit, I was pretty sure I had fixed her studder too.

When I emerged from the shower, I put on my nice guy hat again. Even though, it was incredible pushing her around and playing master, I couldn't keep this persona going. It just didn't fit on me. We made love no less than three times that night. Ingrid, it seemed, did not have the same zeal for me when I conducted myself like a gentleman. The cock hungry panther that I thrashed in the shower with was gone and the old cold fish Ingrid had returned.

The next day I finally grew some balls and made her leave. It didn't last long, though. The following week she came back around, batting her eyes and brandishing some cleavage and I fell for it again. Before long I'd get sick of her and I gave her the boot again. This proved the template for our relationship... ...or whatever you'd call it.

After a few of weeks, I was starting to feel like the whole thing had run its course. Believe it or not, the novelty of having sex whenever and however I wanted was starting to wear off. I'd always thought it would be the perfect scenario, having a fuck buddy. The notorious problem with free pussy, though, is that there's always a woman attached, and this one was particularly irksome.

First of all, she was almost a permanent fixture in my barracks room. Even though I made it clear that I couldn't let her spend the night, that pretentious little bitch would just expect she was going to sleep in my bed. After our hook ups, I was constantly having to wake her up and remind her to leave. Then she'd go into this hour long fit where she would wine and complain and beg me to let her stay. I gave in mostly, at least in the beginning. Later, though, I insisted, even if I had to be a dick about it.

It didn't stop there. When she wasn't in my room, she was calling me. She'd want to stay on the phone for hours talking about nothing.

Which brings me to the next thing. I couldn't stand having to talk to her. She would jabber on forever about the most boring and annoying topics you can imagine. We couldn't enjoy a moment of silence without her wanting to give me this soliloquy on, i.e., this funny thing her niece did at school, how mean her mom was, or more about her EX-FUCKING-BOYFRIEND again. Even if she told a story worth listening to, it would be exhaustingly drawn out by that goddamned aggravating st-t-t-tudder.

Okay, that last part probably sounded terrible. I knew she couldn't help her speech problem, but I felt something rotten was taking root in me. I was starting to be spiteful, almost in retaliation to being annoyed. When we spoke, I would be disrespectful, bordering on abusive, even around other people. Sometimes, even with sex, I would be a little too rough or call her awful names. After some deep self-reflection, I began to realize that I did not like the person I was becoming.

We were just bad for each other. She was clearly not girlfriend material, so it's not like I had the patience to work through things. Her little quirks and mannerisms weren't exactly bringing out the best in me either. Nevertheless, I was still a little hesitant to let her go. As soon as I did, she'd be on to the next chump, just like when her ex dumped her. Being lonesome was a bitch and I hated the idea of going back to it.

Feeling torn, I figured out a way to delay giving her the axe. I had a four-day weekend coming up, so I elected to go home, visit with some old friends and really get my head together. Who knows, with a few miles between us, I might genuinely miss her. It was settled; few days out of town, then I'd decide.

While I was home, I made it clear to her that I would be away from a phone while I was there and would try to call her when I could. I didn't even give my parents phone number to her before I left, just to eliminate any temptation. This way I'd have some time without her in my ear constantly.

The first night there, I met up with some friends and ended up partying until late. I must have gotten home about two or three in the morning and slept in until ten. No sooner than I was up and stirring, my stepdad knocked and then stuck his head into my room with a goofy grin on his face.

So, about my stepdad; first thing, he loved my mom and treated her like a queen. Because of that my brother and I loved him too and had a lot of respect for him. He did, however, tease the ever-loving-shit out of us as teenagers. A constant prankster and a smartass, he never missed a chance to fuck with us.

Noticing my mom and brother were right behind him, I beckoned them in. "Hey, what's up?" I said, unclear what was happening.

"Oh, nothing." He quipped. "You missed, what must have been, a very important phone call last night."