Private Jennifer Taylor was no doubt my favourite recruit, having served me in my squad for well over a year. That is not to say she is sometimes the cause of embarrassment with her mischievous ways, but given all that she has become close to me in more ways than one. As her commanding officer I must not let it be seen, either by the other recruits or generally.
I must be always prudent because the last thing that was to happen would be for it to get around that I was having an affair with one of my subordinates because that would entirely discredit my authority,
Before I met Jennifer I would never have thought of such a thing. I had a career and an exemplary reputation to honour and the gist of it too I had been engaged to be married to Henrietta, but this is not really a cheating issue because Henrietta and I haven't hit it off for ages past, and never since I met Jennifer. She never hit it off in bed with me, it was like flogging a dead horse and I am sure she was thinking of England every time I found it hard to enter her. And when I did make it all she could say was; "hurry up darling, I have things to do!" What sort of relationship is that!
I have made Jennifer my personal assistant, which I have discovered suits her best, for let her loose and there is all hell to pay in trying top control her natural exuberance in public. Put in the mode of my office she is happy and content to serve me in many ways.
And of course, so am I!
From day one I was taken by her, not only her looks, her great figure but her absolute charm and sexual allure, and it did not take me long before I realised she was out to bait me.
What is it they say about a guy chases a gal until she catches him?
I loved the scent of her, the perfume that said "I am Jennifer." It played a big part in enticing me to take advantage of my rank I guess, well she looked so good in her army uniform, the way she wore her skirt, the way she wore her army shirt, plenty to fill it out and I remember longing to make love to her. Secretly I was becoming absolutely besotted by her, all the little things about her - like even the creases in her figure hugging skirt which somehow did wonders for my credentials.
When one day she sat on my desk and so cheekily crossed her gorgeous thighs, dragging up her skirt to display just enough above the knee to show me she wanted my attention, I just could not resist.
She had this habit of bringing in cream buns every day from the NAAFI ( that's the service canteen) layered with raspberry jam, which were tempting enough in themselves, and my mind was thinking wicked with how I could enjoy both the buns and her. That's what it had become, like I was a complete pervert, but for the right reasons - and by now, with her sitting on the edge of the desk as if perched and ready for me, also scoffing one of those cream buns, the jam oozing from the sides. But she, always careful to catch the excess with her curled tongue before it dripped onto her skirt, licking and sucking it up in the most delightful and sexually explicit fashion; to be honest I wouldn't have minded if it had because it would have given me an excuse to lick it off - and, well you know how one thing leads to another? I shouldn't have worried though with what came after the bun munching; when she pulled out of her tunic pocket a couple of Cadbury's Crème Eggs, offering me one to share with her.
"I love to see the way people eat these, Sir," she said with that certain mischief in her glowing eyes and I pulled her up for calling me that, she knew she could always call me Pete when we were alone. Although oft times she just ignored me, I really think it was all part of her sexual prowess that she liked the idea of me having command over her. She started to peel slowly back the silver cover on her egg, just to expose the top half, and it wasn't very long before she showed me with some delight just how she tackled a Crème Egg. I was absolutely entranced and thrilled out of my mind the way she placed the egg against her lips and so sexually used the tip of her tongue to lick the chocolate slowly, her eyes closing as she took it so beautifully into her mouth, then just fracturing the chocolate shell, she dipped her tongue inside, whirling it around and around and the enjoyment was evident from her expression, those half closed eyes and the moaning sound..
She knew just how to arouse me and no mistake and I saw her mischievous grin again as, she glanced down at me sitting in the chair by my desk, taking in her scent, the scent of the woman I loved and ached for, more so now as she continued to do things with that egg that I could never have imagined, all the time I felt the message was there, she so teasing me then by intentionally or not, parting her thighs do, with hers sill perched seductively on the corner of my desk I was able to peek between and see the blueness of her undies. But then she closed again and crossed her legs the opposite way, her skirt rising even higher, enough for me to take in the very arousing an erotic sight of her dark tan army issue stockings supported by black suspenders attached to her stocking tops, I guess like most guys I find that a real hardener, there is just something so seductive about seeing the whites of the thighs, I guess that is knowing that not far above is heaven tucked somewhere between those enchanting tight fitting panties which make a woman look a hundred dollars.
"You show me yours now?" said she as she licked and sucked up the remains of her egg, taking me out of my trance fixed and focussed on the darkness now between her thighs as she closed up once more. Her teeth nibbled through the chocolate..
"Mine?"
"Your egg, dafty, Oops I mean, Sir! Show me how you tackle yours?"
