Closing my eyes, I could still see the screen in front of me. No matter what, there was always more to read. Every day from noon until 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning I was there, reading, asking questions, reporting what I found and making recommendations. That didn't leave much time for anything else, including sleep, and my few diversions consisted of shift change meetings and uninspiring visits to the DFAC. I had settled into a routine and decided it was going to be a long four months.
One evening as I walking back with my friend Lisa through the blistering Iraqi heat from another slightly nauseating round of plain noodles, soggy broccoli, and some unidentifiable meat-like substance, I saw a new guy waiting at the ECP, talking to guards about where he could drop off his gear. The one positive thing about the place, I had to admit, was the scenery. There were lots of incredibly attractive, unbelievably fit men running around in the smallest shorts I'd ever seen apart from my 8 year-old niece's dance costumes. And while he was wearing regular clothes and not my favorite little black shorts, I couldn't help but stare at the guy as I walked by. He didn't look much different than most of my favorite scenery -- tall, shaved head, broad shoulders, great ass -- but something about him just looked like more fun than any of the others.
While the enormously lop-sided ration of men to women was something I was particularly fond of, it did make everyone look at you and say hello when you walked by and my attempt at smooth and surreptitious thus failed miserably when he caught me checking him out. The best I could do was just to look him in the eye and smile, admitting without words that I had, in fact, been staring at his ass and daring him to do anything about it.
As soon as we were out of earshot I turned to Lisa. "Oh my God! Did you see that guy? He totally caught me checking him out!"
Already laughing at me, she replied, "Yeah, but come on. He was hot. You couldn't not look. He'll get over it. I'm sure he was flattered." Two steps later she added, "After all, how many dusty, dirty, sweaty women in oversize T-shirts and cargo pants have probably checked him out since he arrived?"
"Bitch!" I said as I jokingly shoved her towards the concrete barriers lining the sidewalk. "Besides, you looked too. I know you did."
"Well, yeah, maybe just for a second," she admitted.
Lisa didn't say anything about him for the rest of night and I had almost forgotten the incident as I walked back through the dark towards my trailer. It had been a long day and I was looking forward to a nice cool shower and a few uninterrupted hours of sleep. Grabbing my shower kit and towel, I changed from boots into flip flops and headed through the dark rows of trailers towards the showers. Not nearly as good as my bathroom or shower at home, it was still one of the best parts of my day... washing off the dust and grime that managed to permeate every layer of clothing and getting rid of the Iraq Smell, as I called it. I always felt more like myself after a shower and more like a woman, softer and clean-smelling. Both because of the hours I worked and because there just weren't many women there period, I usually had the whole shower trailer to myself. Deciding to take advantage of the moment, I closed my eyes and pictured the new guy... staring at me while I stared back at him, smiling. With the water running over my body, I thought about what it would feel like to get my hands on him... and to feel his hands on me. I slowly reached down to touch myself, mildly surprised at how aroused I was just thinking about him. Fingering myself to orgasm I smiled, thinking that this is what I would be thinking of the next time I saw him.
Turning off the water, I stepped out of the shower to towel off and threw on my gym shorts and T-shirt for the walk back to my trailer. No matter what I decided to wear to bed (or what I decided
not
to wear) I knew better than to walk back in a towel.
As I disappeared between the rows of sandbagged trailers, I lost count of how many I had passed and missed my usual landmark of where to turn. Thinking I couldn't have gone more than one row beyond my own, I turned around and walked back one row to my door.
I walked inside the dark room and closed the door, but realized something was wrong as soon as I went to hang up my towel. I stubbed my toe hard on something I didn't remember leaving on the floor and I sat down on the bed, cursing loudly. My toe was quickly forgotten, however, as I felt movement on the bed beside me. A split second later there was a strong arm pinning me to the bed as a light clicked on.
