This is for all the devoted fans of Lesbian Army Life, who pleaded and requested more…enjoy!
Smith and I had grown together as a couple more than we could have imagined that first day when we had been thrown together in barracks. Smith and I now fit together as buddies, comrades and lovers. We went to sleep each night sucking each other out, we often woke in the night and rocked ourselves back to sleep with our regulation Army issue dildo, and when Smith woke promptly at 5.07am each morning (a lifetime habit, apparently), she shook the morning heebie jeebies out of me by squeezing my tits as a prelude to another round of delectable fucking.
There had been plenty of bad sex in my life, and nothing, simply nothing, as good as what I had been getting the last 21 days and nights. Far from feeling tired and worn out though, I was invigorated, energised, in a constant state of tingling arousal and anticipation. Sometimes I found that I had to break off whatever I was doing, be it polishing my boots, or waxing the leather harness that held our chickdicks and seek release, from my own hands if alone, or preferably with Smith sucking and fucking with me.
Saturday morning three weeks later, and we were called on Parade before sunrise. Smith and I were half way towards cumming, but knew we had to rush into our fatigues, pull on our leather boots and be present for Parade. We arrived just in time and then our CO, my cousin Kristy-Anne, began to bark orders. We stumbled through our drills as the sun began to spread its first weak beams across the parade ground.
Immediately after Parade it was haircut time. I usually went Wednesday and Saturday for a touch up shave around my ears and up the back of my neck. The only difference now was that I was beginning to tan in these hitherto unexposed places, and the crisp ‘white walls' were disappearing. I was soooo wet for the feel of stubble that I had an orgasm every time the barber turned on the clippers! Initially Smith had resisted the weekly barber shop visit – in the first couple of weeks she still missed her long hair. She said she felt more exposed and naked with her buzzcut than she did with her pantyless cunt in my face! But as she got used to being in my face, she too began to look forward to the hum and buzz of the clippers. This was major fetish territory we had entered, all thanks to the Army.
This week I had decided to get Smith's pussy shaved. Not only had I never made love with another woman until 3 weeks ago, nothing would have been further from my mind in that other fast-receding life than believing I would desire a woman with a bald pussy! But the last few days and nights I had thought of little else. Now I had experienced the pleasure of sliding my tongue along the smooth inner folds of her rose petal cunt lips, what would it feel like running my tongue over a smooth bare mound? What would the sight be like of her tantalising bud, the hood peeled back, the glistening tiny orb standing red and proud? And then, what would it feel like in a week, rasping my tongue over the stubbly regrowth?
I was lost in these thoughts, feeling the humid wetness spreading between my legs when I sensed that Kristy-Anne had dismissed the company and Smith was standing breast to breast with me her sweet breath blowing gently in my ear as she whispered "An orgasm for your thoughts!"
I grabbed her immediately and pulled her across the parade ground to the timber hut housing the barbershop. I sat her on the top step, just as we had done on our first day when she had sobbed for her lost tresses.
"Smith, do you trust me?"
She replied "Honey, we're in the army now. We have learned to be comrades. We have learned to trust each other whole-heartedly. You don't need to ask!"
"Good", I replied, "because I have a surprise for you. But you must trust me entirely." I pulled from my pants pocket a cotton bandana, and placed it over Smith's eyes, then tied it at the back of her head, blindfolding her.