Lady Claire

PROLOGUE --

First, this is a very long story. It has been edited, but, due to its length, there is a likelihood that some errors slipped by. I apologize in advance. Please don't let them get in the way of the story.

For the trolls, this story involves extramarital sexual experiences...in a category that is for extramarital sexual experiences. I don't care about what you think. Better yet, don't even read it...especially 26thNC. Instead of trolling everyone in this category like you usually do, maybe try writing at least one story...and go seek professional help for what ails your emotional pain and psyche.

The story is an accumulation of facts and fiction, the facts being based on experiences that I heard of while participating in a support group of men who attended 'sexaholics' meetings. I participated for a short while, but stopped when I realized that I was incorrigible, but harmless...and that I liked my little dalliances in the lifestyle. None of what I dealt with came close to the addictions that others had and that, in my opinion, rightfully belonged there.

There are a lot of embellishments in this story. Some embellishments are on a grand scale to make it more of a story than of a testimony. But this story is based on one very intriguing factual testimonial that I heard at one of the meetings. I had further discussions with the individual that shared his experience to get more details...and to get his permission to write about it. Of course, names and places have been changed to protect everyone's anonymity.

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THE STORY --

I'm Trenton, or 'Trent', as most people call me.

Claire is my world...and this is her story.

A foreword, if I may. There are many assertions in this story as to Claire's beauty. Is she the most beautiful woman in the world? To me, she is. The world is full of breathtakingly exotic-looking women. But, of course, I'm biased. My vision of her is colored by the radiant hues of extreme love that exists between us. Her beauty is not just skin-deep. She is beautiful through to her core. And she is naturally attractive. Rarely does she need to put make-up on. I can honestly say that men and women alike find her captivating wherever she goes.

We met years ago, but it was not love at first sight. Not for me, at least. She happened to be the kid sister of Mike, my best friend all through high school. When Claire and I first met in our small town outside of a metropolitan area in the Midwest, I was fifteen, and she was nine...definitely not a love-interest at that point. Mike and I hung out together a lot, and shared a lot of adventures...camping, fishing, hunting, and mountain climbing, to name a few.

I now know in retrospect that Claire developed a crush on me early on, though. I began to suspect it because she always wanted to join us in our adventures. I thought that it was cute of her. I never wanted to hurt her feelings because she was an adorably sweet kid. Often, we'd take her fishing with us. Coming from a smaller outdoor-engaged family (I had one sister who was two years older than me), I knew a lot about hunting and fishing, and Claire learned a lot from me, as did her older brother Mike. I knew that she looked up to me. Even at her young age, she was as cute as could be...but a six-year difference at that age made all the difference in the world to me. I kept thinking of her in terms of 'little sister'.

Upon graduation from high school, I immediately enlisted for four years in the Marine Corps for a number of reasons, one of which was to obtain veterans' education benefits. By then, I was seventeen, about to turn eighteen. Claire was only eleven, going on twelve, still just a kid, but beginning to transform from cute to pretty. "Will you be coming back?" she asked just before I left. "I will definitely be back from time to time, Claire. I doubt that I'll ever find a fishing partner as good as you are!" That brought a smile to her face.

Mike went away to an out-of-state college right from high school, so we didn't get to see each other whenever I would come home on leave. Members of the military got thirty days of leave each year. I would try to take a week of leave every three or four months, and fly home from southern California. While home, I especially liked to go fishing since I didn't have much opportunity to do that at my duty station. It relaxed me.

I would also visit Mike's parents to say, "Hi," and to catch each other up on our lives. Of course, Claire would insist on being present for these visits, hanging on every word that I said. She would often ask if I was going fishing while I was home, and, if so, if she could join me. I always agreed to let her tag along. She was good company, and, by then at twelve years of age, she was becoming quite the fisherman.

Even though one was supposed to be quiet when fishing so as not to spook the fish, we talked. She had a million and a half questions...what was life like in the Corps? What was my job? Was it dangerous? Would I ever have to go to war? Was I going to stay in longer or get out and go to college? If I went to college, what would I study? Which college would I go to? What would I do after college? What kind of lure should she use over a bed of waterlilies? Can she see what I have in my tackle box? Do I believe in God and Jesus? Did I ever meet any famous people? And so on.

The part about believing in God came from her lifestyle. Her family was a devout Christian one. They were all very active in their church. It was a big part of their lives. Claire was quite active in youth activities and ministry. I asked my share of questions of her, and came to understand that she would never go on dates. When I asked why, her answer was that the boys really didn't want anything to do with 'holy rollers' because they thought that it would not go in the direction that they wanted for fun. She also offered that they were right, it wasn't going to go in that direction. She vowed that she would not "do it" until she married. I felt a little uncomfortable with that turn in the conversation. I was twenty at the time of that conversation, and she was fourteen...still just a child...but nicely growing into beautiful womanhood. "But," she said, "I'm okay with that. I have a lot of fun with my church friends, and don't have to worry about being pressured into doing something that I felt was not right." I nodded my head in agreement. "Good for you," I said, and left it at that.

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Right after I returned to base from that trip home, my unit was unexpectedly deployed to the middle east at a time when bad shit was still happening. I was a Corporal then, an 'NCO', or Noncommissioned Officer. Being an infantry fire team leader, I knew that this could be serious.

By this time, Claire and I had become very regular email pen pals. It helped me pass my time at my duty station by having a constant connection to home. It was difficult to let her know that I was being deployed, and she was greatly alarmed when I did tell her. She wrote that she would pray for me daily. I thanked her, and asked if she would continue to email me often, too. I also let her know that it could take a few days for me to respond, but to keep writing. I would answer every email.

It didn't take long for us to arrive in Afghanistan. We were in a hot zone of Taliban activity. We weren't committed to any missions right away, having to first go through some indoctrination and training.

Sure enough, Claire's emails came to me frequently, and I faithfully responded. One evening, when I was hunched forward into the desktop, and replying to one of Claire's emails, Colton...or 'Colt' as we called him, another Corporal, and a fire team leader in our squad, came by, looked over my shoulder at the screen, and asked, "Claire? You have a girl friend?"

"No," I responded. "Just a friend."

"Just a friend...or a friend with benefits?" he chuckled.

"Just a friend, Colt. A family friend. And she's only fourteen, so she's definitely just a pen pal...and a damn good fisherman," I offered. He smiled, and walked off.

Colt and I had become very good friends. He was two years older than I was, having first tried his hand at being a professional musician. He wasn't gaining the traction that he'd hoped to have, and decided to take a break from the pursuit for a while. I could have thought of many other ways to "take a break" than to join the Marines.

We had entered the Corps at the same time, were in the same recruit training platoon where we met, went through infantry training together, were somehow assigned to the same unit, both had the same rank, and had the same duties as fire team leaders. Colt was someone that you could count on in times of need. And he knew his military skills better than anyone that I knew besides me. We spent a lot of time together in mutual exploits out in California.

One of those exploits was his wife Julia. She joined him out in California after all of his training was over, and he arrived at Camp Pendleton, our permanent duty station. They got married right out of high school. Colt, in time, decided that he could count on me to keep a secret of his exactly that, a secret. Before they got married, he and Julia sometimes experimented sexually, and continued to explore in their marriage. They had to keep it extremely quiet now, though, due to strict military code. When Colt opened up to me about that, it was in Julia's presence one evening when they had me over for dinner, and well after they had vetted me about my position on such scandalous behavior. I replied with, "I guess that it's not really cheating if both agree to it, and abide by the rules that the couple sets." Shortly after, they invited me to join them for that night. I honestly did not see that coming, and my mind reeled. Never having had sex before, I was quite nervous. But, my cock got rock hard.

Colt was a very good-looking, muscular guy, and Julia was a looker with a great body. Of course I would like to spend time between her legs. And I did just that. Not just that evening, too. I found myself being invited back on many occasions. I wasn't going to say, "No!" I was on the "no experience" side of the equation, not having any opportunities to find dates near a military base. Until I met them, I was a virgin. And, Julia knew how to fuck. I learned much from her as to how to please a woman manually and orally. Colt could trust me, too, to keep their secret, and, more so, not to try anything behind his back, which was one of their rules. I wasn't going to do that. I got to fuck her in his presence a lot, and I wasn't going to mess that up. I gave up on even looking for dates after that.

Most of our experiences were threesomes, but sometimes Colt just liked to sit back and watch his wife being fucked by another man. I can't say that I could wrap my head around this, but I didn't care. I rolled with it, and I fucked Julia a lot, and I learned a lot.

Now that we were deployed, we both missed Julia, but I never made any inference of that to Colt, nor did I inquire of how he felt. I knew that he...they...would deal with it together. I was wrong.

Julia went home to their hometown for family support during the span of our deployment. About nine months into our deployment, Colt got a letter from a high school friend, letting him know that Julia had been dating around a lot, and was even seen going into a hotel with some strange man. Even though they had an adventurous marriage, this wasn't part of the deal. It hit Colt pretty hard. He needed to talk about it, and I was there for him.

Colt decided to end the marriage, and took legal steps while in Afghanistan. He knew that he wouldn't be able to complete the process until he got back home, but taking those steps helped him feel like he was in control, and allowed him to keep his head on straight. And that's what he needed most as a combatant in a hot zone.

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A few months later, we were called out on a search and seizure patrol, moving through a small village that was suspected of abetting armed Taliban fighters. All went peacefully until Colt's team discovered weapons in one home at the edge of the village square. As soon as it was discovered, all hell broke loose. The occupants starting yelling something at us...or at their comrades...and Taliban then seemingly appeared out of nowhere. They instantly began firing at us. My team was exposed, and quickly took cover in a close-by building from which covering fire was coming. Luckily, no one on my team was hit. The covering fire did the job of disrupting the hostile aim.

Colt's and my teams had been patrolling next to each other, so it happened to be in the cluster of homes where Colt's team found the weapons that we took refuge. There was heavy fire from several clusters of homes on the other side of the village square. I was safely inside a home, and near a window. I was able to get my M-4 through the window with little exposure of my head. I was a skilled hunter, and knew all too well how to pick targets off. I started finding them, and shooting. One by one, they were silenced.

"Man, where did you learn to shoot like that?" a familiar voice called out. It was Colt. The house that my team had taken cover in was the one in which he had found the weapons. "Been hunting all my life. Same principle, different game!" I answered back. I was good with a rifle with open iron sights, having shot competitively in high school ROTC. Put an ACOG (a battle scope) on the rifle, and I was sniper quality.

Just then, two Taliban burst into our room from behind Colt. Colt didn't see them since they were behind him, and he was focused on acquiring targets outside the window that he was hidden behind. I quickly caught them out of the corner of my eye, whipped the point of my M-4's barrel around in 'quick kill' mode, and dropped them both with two rapid shots to their chests. I saw surprise and agony in their eyes as they dropped and began leaking their red life onto the floor.

I continued pointing my barrel at the door that they burst through, waiting for any others that might come through. No one else showed up to the party. Colt moved quickly away from his spot near that doorway just in case there was someone with a grenade in the adjoining room.

After several minutes, nothing more happened in our room. While Colt watched during that time, I kept finding and shooting Taliban targets. All told, I popped about a dozen or so. The rest of our squad and platoon were able to then sweep through the village, taking the rest of the fighters out once I reduced the hostile fire to a withering volume. The final count was twenty-three known kills, with only one casualty on our side, and that one was not life-threatening.

That was the only combat action that we saw over all of the patrols that we did, but that was plenty enough for me.

The after-action report noted my significant contribution to the fight, single-handedly eliminating much of the opposing fire, allowing the rest of the unit to successfully eliminate the threat. I was awarded the Silver Star...not the highest medal, but high enough. The citation lauded me on my shooting, and also read that my quick reflexes saved the life of a brother Marine. Colt let that part be known.

Back at base, that evening, I found myself yearning to hear from Claire. Actually, I needed to hear from her to help bring my adrenaline level down. I began to admit that this young lady was really growing on me. After I read her email for that day...she was now emailing me daily...I chose to not disclose what happened in that village. I really cared for her enough to not worry her.

Colt, oddly, seemed to be in brighter spirits after that sweep through the village. I couldn't figure out what took him from being down over the demise of his marriage to up in the clouds, so I asked him.

"Colt, what gives? Last week, you were fit to be tied, and now you're bubbling over the rim of the glass. What happened?"

"That close call in that house when you popped those two woke me up. I'm alive, by God. And I'm going to celebrate it. And no cheating bitch is going to drag me down off of that cloud!"

Colt and I eventually returned to state-side, served the rest of our four-year commitment, and bid each other, "See you later," not wanting to think that this was good-bye. He and I had become best friends, and promised to stay in touch. "After all, I have a large debt to repay you, brother!" he said.

"Just doing my duty, Colt. Just doing my duty," I countered.

"I don't know, Bro. I think that you think that I think that maybe I'm your friend, or something like that," he countered with a grin."

"Well, maybe," I chuckled. "We'll see."

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I mentioned that, prior to enlisting in the Marines, Colt was an aspiring professional musician. He would always take his guitar with him wherever he went while in the Corps, and played covers of popular songs at nearly all of our social gatherings so to keep his skills finely honed. He was popular, being extremely good, and being blessed with a great set of pipes. He also wrote some original material that was also extremely good. After his active service, Colt began working as a professional musician again. His song-writing was so good by then that labels began to buy them for their A-listers. His name got more and more recognition. He began to sing his own demos, and quickly got picked up by a country label. With the right production and publicity, he became an A-lister himself. And all the while, we stayed in touch as best of friends.

As for me, when I returned home, I was greeted by the tightest hug from one breathtakingly beautiful young sixteen-year-old high-schooler. But...I was twenty-two, now, and the six-year age gap was still too much for her age. So, we just kept each other company, but now as 'besties'.

I enrolled in the state university in the city next to our town, majoring in finance. With my four years of experience and maturing in the Corps, I aced every class that I took.

Claire inquired as to how my deployment went. I gave details sparingly. I did mention that I went out on patrols just to maintain a presence in their community, which was largely the truth. I never said that I didn't experience combat, but I never told her that I did, either.

During those final two years of her high school, we fished, we hunted, I accompanied her on her church activities. Folks were beginning to see us as a pair, which was slightly less than as a couple. We were friends and companions. Her parents knew that they could trust me, and they took comfort in knowing that their little girl was safely in my company. She was. I would protect her to the best of my ability.

I enjoyed watching her mature through her final two years of high school. She was becoming a bit popular, even though she was considered to be a "holy roller." Her personality was so great that people tended to now overlook that. She appeared wholesome in everyone's eye. She already made the varsity cheer squad at the beginning of her junior year. She was elected as football homecoming queen for her junior and senior years, and she was overwhelmingly voted as senior prom queen by her classmates.

She was approached by many boys to go out with them. She politely and gently declined their offers. They probably blamed zealotry for her religious beliefs. I suspected that it was because of her intense crush on me. With that in mind, I did my very best to see to it that she was afforded many opportunities to stay entertained with outdoor activities and by hanging out on some evenings.

It might have also helped her popularity a little that she let her friends know that she was best friends with the best friend of new country superstar Colt Hayes. Yeah, I told her that he and I served together, and had formed a great bond during our Corps years. She also knew that he and I were frequently in touch to keep up with each other's lives. I even let the two talk on the phone to each other, which absolutely sent her over the moon, especially the first time when he asked her if she was THE Claire who emailed me all the time when we were in Afghanistan. With the phone to her ear, she just beamed at me when he let her know that he knew exactly who she was.