One Hundred Percent Straight

Authors Note: In this story a straight women questions herself and her sexuality. This is my first ever story, so I apologize if I fall into the same pitfalls that all new authors fall into. If you guys like it I'll continue on with it, more chapters and such, but no promises, as my interests are always fleeting. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: female masturbation, army, questioning sexuality, sexuality denial.

*****

"You're going to get yourself killed." This was one of the few last things my dear mother told me.

"You're going to get yourself killed, and then I'd have to kick your ass, and then that'll just be a whole damned thing, you'll have me certified, kicking my dead daughters ass in her own grave and I just..."

Among other various ramblings.

"Ma... It's just basic training. They'll send me to some off-planet base, where I'll get screamed at until I can shoot straight. I won't even be in active duty, I'm a computer engineer, not an actual 'soldier' soldier." I was lying, of course. I had to. My family would have killed me themselves if they knew what I was going to be doing.

I had said my goodbyes to all of friends, my family, my dog. I really was going off-planet, and I really am going to basic training, that wasn't the lie. The lie would only really become a lie once I completed basic and went off to become an infil specialist. I was pre-selected for this program when I signed up, said my performance "ticked all their boxes" whatever that could mean. I'm not even sure why I said yes. It just felt... right.

The shuttle was dingy, not quite the super soldier transport I was expecting. An oddly small man escorted me into the seating area and ticked my name off a list, giving it one final heralding.

"Ally Stocker" He said it very oddly. Like a passing greeting to a stranger.

"Uhhhh yeah. That's still me." Before I even had time to register what I had just done, this 5 foot 9 man was so close to me I could count his eyelashes.

"AND WHO IN GODS BLUE SKY DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, TALKING TO A DRILL SERGEANT LIKE HES YOUR FUCKING HIGH SCHOOL FUCK BUDDY YOU ABSOLUTE COCK SHINE??"

I guess I'm in the army now.

The base was on a heavily forested world. Apparently that was so they could be better hidden from enemy scans or something. It was such a gorgeous landscape that I barely noticed my entire group leaving me behind. The drill sergeant that escorted me to the shuttle, who I found to be called "Drill Sergeant Jenkins", whapped me right at the base of the skull and one sharp "MARCH" later, I was catching up to my group.

I would quickly learn that this "group" is actually my squad. The people I would be training with for the next 10 weeks. I had little to no interest in any of these people, if I'm being entirely honest with you, but I figured if these were the people that would be protecting me, I might as well be on their good sides.

My squad and I were all stood in our barracks, duffles at our feet, waiting for our Drill Sergeant to come in. From minute one other squads were glaring at us, as if we had already pissed them off. At first I took it as hatred, but when our DS walked through that door, I knew immediately that it was jealousy. No, pure envy.

The door opens and light floods in, momentarily hiding the full features of this woman before me. I knew I had to look straight ahead or be punished, but if I'm being entirely honest, the thought of being punished by her wasn't sounding like the worst outcome.

Messy, light black hair tied back into a bun, dark aviator shades that don't even come close to hiding the brightest green eyes I have ever seen, punctuated with a wicked white smirk that could make a mannequin flood its basement. A black crop top and certainly-not-military-issue camo spandex hugged the form of this 5 foot 10 dream. The slight bit of her stomach that teased the world promised a soft place to lay your head, or a great surface to grip when you put your head between the thickest, most delectable thighs I had ever seen in my god damned life.

Listen, I've seen attractive women before. I'm a looker myself, if I may be so bold. But I've never seen a women so sexy that I didn't even remember that I was straight. I was too busy thinking about how hot it would be to see her lying in a heap on my bed, cumming her fucking toes off. Before I even knew it she was about 4 inches from me. She stops and gives me a once over, her eyes peering over her glasses with such intensity.

"Hmmm." And with that she walks back out, putting on display the tightest, perkiest ass I would have ever dared to dream of. She stops just before the door, and yells to no one in particular,

"Drills are at 0500, be ready to run by 0430 or you'll run double. Is that understood?"

In unison, 9 of the horniest men and 1 women that promises shes straight, despite the growing heat inside her, call back

"YES DRILL SERGEANT."

"Yes drill sergeant, fuck, YES. Keep going, please..." The alarm goes off for 0400 and I'm practically glued to my bed. These standard issue boyshort panties aren't the best barrier in the world, but I'm pretty sure a pair of fucking sponge underwear couldn't have stopped me from soaking them through. With dreams like that its getting harder to tell myself that I'm 100 percent straight.

I hate running. Honestly, anyone who says they enjoy running has got their head on backwards. That being said, I would run every minute of every day if I got to run behind Drill Sergeant Lain. This must be one of those "relaxed boot camps" you hear so much about... or maybe no one in their right mind would try and stop this woman from wearing her current outfit of straight black workout shorts and a camo sports bra. At least shes trying to stick to the theme.

After a mile and a half run, we were allowed to shower before we ate breakfast. Showering with nine dudes who just fantasized about ravaging a perfect ass for a mile and a half. Naked. One hundred percent straight is starting to dip if the thought of nine fairly muscular dudes showering with me isn't appealing.

"Stocker," said a voice tuned to a brass bell. "You've been given special shower privilege on account of your unique placement. You can shower in my private quarters any time showers are offered. That is, of course, unless you'd rather shower with your squadies."

"I uh. Thank you Drill Sergeant. I'd be honored to shower your private quarters... I mean.. I'd be honored to shower... Thank you Drill Sergeant." Fuck.

She shoots a glance my way, shakes her head, and leads me to the officers barracks, into her room.

A whole 15 minute block to myself, where I am guaranteed privacy, and access to running water? I mean honestly, how could I have not fingered myself? Don't you judge me. I tried my absolute hardest to think of past boyfriends, the countless men back home that were my normal tracing eights material, but every time one of them got close to me, DS Lain throws them aside with her strong frame, unties her soft black hair, and stares right into my eyes.

She puts two hands delicately on my soft feet, inching her way closer to my face with her full cherry red lips forward, and closer to my center with her big, strong, soft hands. Working her way up my thighs one. inch. at. a. time. She stops when her nose touches mine, leaving me to bite my lip gently. A soft moan begs for her to close the gap. An even softer kiss fulfills the request, and I am lost to the feeling of raw intimacy. Here is this hardass drill instructor, toned from years of service, kissing me with the kiss of a cool breeze on a summer vacation.

Her hands play a different game. My mind became blank as her tongue found mine, and I momentarily forgot about her trained hands finding their way to the target. A palm presses against the full front of my soaking panties, sending a gasp and a moan straight through me. I push back and she leaves me wanting, letting me know she is in full control. But she is a merciful lover, giving me back the connection I desperately squirm for.

Another hand finds its way up further, past all the desire below and up to my heaving chest. It finds its way under my shirt, my bra, and over the small, perky breasts underneath. Only stopping when she feels my small nipple against her palm, squeezing my sensitive tits, letting me know to whom they belong.

I break the kiss long enough to whisper, to beg, to demand.

"Fuck me."

But I've already cum, the fantasy melting away as a moan slightly louder than intended escapes my lips as my own two fingers plunge me into a satisfying end.

I towel off with my standard issue towel - just because I get a nice fancy shower doesn't mean I get luxury towels - get redressed in my ACU, and head out to rejoin my squad for breakfast. As soon as I open the door of the bathroom, I'm standing in front of the woman of my dreams. Quite literally.

"If you're going to use my bathroom to fuck yourself, at least have the decency to do so quietly, recruit. Get back in there and clean that bathroom top to bottom, no inch left untouched, no breakfast today. Understood?"

"Yes Drill Sergeant. Sorry Drill Sergeant."

She leans in real close, her cheek a mere inches from mine, as she says in a soft voice,

"And just between us, recruit... If I wanted to hear my name moaned like that from those lips..." she's whispering now, I feel her heat against me.

"You would earn it."

I hadn't even noticed that I was saying her name. My face is as red as her lipstick against my ear. I'm not even sure how to respond to that, and luckily she quickly turns, and walks towards the door.

"I...I'm not... I'm not like that... Drill Sergeant." It's the only thing that I can muster to say.

"My shower floor says differently." and with that, I'm left alone to question what it is that I really feel.