Author's Note: Please make sure you read part one to fully understand what is going on in this story. I have broken it up so that any particular chapter can be read with ease, but the story will make far more sense if read in order (I know, super obvious). To be completely honest, the length of part one was in part because I was unfamiliar with the submission length when transferring a story from my word processing software to Literotica.
Second, I was struggling between using real names or creating new names for the people within the story, I will keep to myself which one I went with, but hopefully this will clarify some of the characters in the first chapter.
Third, English is my second language, so there may be a few grammatical errors, I apologize ahead of time for this. This is more of a personal project and while some of the names have been changed and some details peppered for dramatic purposes, the entire story is actually true.
This might be the only time that I post stories so close to one another, mainly to clear up some of the confusion caused by the first chapter, Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this second part.
--aka_Mike
...
Exam after exam I toiled on, trying to keep my mind as busy as possible from the news that my loving girlfriend had fucked some dude while visiting a mutual close friend. While my mind kept yelling that I should just walk away, my heart kept throwing me for a spin. I would soon graduate from my schooling and move on to parachuting school, nothing like having a heavy heart while learning to fall from 10,000 feet in the air. Ann, my loving girlfriend, and I continued to talk, though not as freely as we had before while our relationship was in its heights, but as soon as she dropped those news on me I decided to wear my dick down with as much pussy as possible. In a training environment, it's like shooting fish in a barrel. The first one that passed through the sheets was the same girl that had kissed me and caused this entire episode in the first place, Harper was her name and while a little older than me she had a body to kill for due to her years as a volleyball player.
Our coupling was not loving in the least, rather it was animalistic, brutal, savage even, and she loved every second of it. After I hung up the phone she was the first person that I ran into, all it took for her to "seduce me" was to simply ask me what was wrong as she saw the pain in my eyes. I pulled her in for a kiss, which led her to pull me into her hotel room and with no gentleness whatsoever I ripped open the tiny t-shirt she had used as sleepwear and the pink thong that gave her the illusion of modesty. I threw her onto the bed, now completely naked except for the tattered pieces of clothing that still hung to her body like bodies trying to hang on to their lives as they hung from a precipice. In one fluid motion, while I kicked my shoes off, she quickly undid my jeans and pulled them down along with my boxers, my erection already more than ready. My shirt went flying, the door to her room had just closed on its own when I first entered her.
It is hard to explain that feeling, while not the tightest pussy I have ever had, it certainly was not loose, it felt more like the proper parts fit perfectly well with each other. I drove my cock into her in one motion, her wetness already present, and a groan of satisfaction emerging from both our lips simultaneously. Grunts and pants were the only noises save from the squeaking of the bed springs, and the unmistakable sound of my balls slapping her ass with each thrust. I pulled her legs onto my shoulders to drive deeper into her, while her eyes remained close in orgasmic bliss, she later would tell me that she had multiple orgasms but they came so quickly one after another that she had difficulty distinguishing where one ended and the other began. I used her body to drive away some of the immediate pain, by the time I turned her over and entered her doggy style, she was less a human and far more a lustful animal waiting to get fed. She drove her head into the pillow to muffle some of her screams of pleasure as I pumped away, without asking I released inside her, her vaginal lining quickly milking my cock as wave after wave of cum and anger filled her. As my cock finished spurting all of its contents, her exhausted body collapsed into the bed, her gasps for breath filling the uncomfortable silence that was threatening to swallow us. I hadn't even noticed that her roommate was awake the entire time, she was busy bringing herself into orgasm during the entire show, our eyes made contact as I pulled my clothes on and made my way out of the room.
Somehow I made it through the intensive questioning from the normal cabbie that I called every time I went into town, he was a good guy overall and while I am sure he had a long list of customers he more than embodied the vision of the cabbie confessional: what's said in the cabbie stays in the cabbie. Eventually our own relationship would develop into a friendlier one, but for the time being we were limited to just acquaintances that happen to share multiple business contacts. By the time I made it back to the barracks and into the open bay, my heart felt heavier again, not by guilt but by unadulterated anger. I had given Ann my heart, and instead of waiting to talk to me she decided to take her "revenge" to even things out, my former best friend's suggestion as a result of my voicemail. When I told her the sordid details of my "cheating," I couldn't understand her through a long series of sobs and wails. She tried to give me the details of her night, but I hung up before she could say much, I was not in the mood to help her ease her guilty conscious while I carried the burden of pain. It would only be a few more weeks, I told myself, and the last words I would say to Ann about the situation were a reminder of my next stop in training and a fleeting hope that somehow my parachute would fail to open to help end the pain once and for all.
The next few days I saw Harper in training, her smile often told me that she wanted a repeat of that night and my cock couldn't have agreed more with her, but I was distracted from the normal duties I had often done without much thought. I often did my laundry on Wednesdays, a habit that I retain to this day, as most of the other people did their laundry either on the weekend or waited until Monday to do it. The ones that thought themselves smarter, which were just as many as the weekend crowds, would wait until Tuesday to do their own, leaving all the equipment open for me to use on my Wednesday laundry day. There were a few nights when the Drill Sergeants would come up to me while I studied in the laundry room as my clothes washed, often to just fuck with me but more recently to help me study. Some had taken a rare liking to my habits and my hard work, I was the quiet one in most of the group activities and a smart ass during our routine military drills. It was not rare to hear one of them yell at me while I did a large number of whatever particular exercise that particular DS felt like making me do.
"Soldier Medic," a familiar voice interrupted my train of thought. DS Harris entered the laundry room as I sat on top of the washer that currently housed my clothes, my normal textbook missing along with the mandatory Battle Buddy that was required whenever a DS spoke to us. This was for mutual protection from any allegations, and for other safety reasons, however my laundry habits often made it difficult to secure one for this activity and the DS normally did not mind us being alone so long as we stayed in the Company area.
"Drill Sergeant," I immediately jumped up from the washer and stood at parade rest as was the custom when addressing Non-Commissioned Officers.
"Relax, Soldier Medic," he replied while removing his brown round (DS hat) and running a hand through his neatly cut hair. This particular DS had taken a liking to my personality and through our talks I had learned that this was his first class of trainees after his return from the invasion of Iraq and a 18 month deployment. "This is more of a social call, have a seat."
"Roger," I replied, the famous military response to just about any question as I resumed my seat on top of the washing machine.
...
The first time I had run into DS Harris had actually been offpost, in the famous River Walk in San Antonio. I was sitting outside one of the many restaurants in the area, with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other, both huge no-no's for trainees. As I laughed and joked with some of my fellow classmates, I felt a sudden hush fall on the group while a finger poked me in the back right shoulder. I didn't need to see who it was, the terror in my classmates' faces told me enough as to the owner of the finger poking me in the back; I knew I was fucked.
"Soldier Medic, are you supposed to be smoking?" DS Harris stood looking at me, even in civilian clothing it was clear that this was an authority figure, and while he was well within his obligations to make a scene and embarrass me completely, he kept his voice to a strict and far scarier tone.
"Negative, Drill Sergeant," I replied, there was no use in lying I still had the burning cigarette in my hand.
"And, Soldier Medic," he continued "aren't you a little underage to be drinking?"
"Roger, Drill Sergeant," I replied, again knowing there was no point in lying.
"How did you get that alcoholic beverage, Soldier Medic?" His tone never once changing, though his face got ever so close to my own, as my table mates tried to escape, his freezing glance held them in place. "Don't tell me you broke the law and used a forged identification? That would be a serious infraction."
"Negative, Drill Sergeant," I replied, so far honestly had saved me from embarrassment; I figured I might as well stick to my guns. "I just asked for one and they brought it."
