A Hero's Welcome Ch. 01

"Baby-boy, what's this, did you hurt yourself?" I asked him, sudden dread filling me.

"What, that? Near miss, nothing to worry about, only needed a plaster" he said dismissively.

I was horrified. "You mean this is a bullet scar? Charlie, tell me! Did someone shoot at you?"

Charlie smiled. "Lu, it's a war-zone, of course someone shot at me; people get shot-at all the time in a war-zone, occupational hazard, don't y'know."

I looked at him in mounting horror; "This means...that ...this could have ...killed you? Oh God Charlie, you were nearly killed, oh God, only a half-inch closer...Oh dear God...!" I was shaking with fright, heart pounding; He could have been killed; someone tried to kill, nearly succeeded in killing, my baby brother.

Charlie leaped up to grab me, holding me close, tight, trying to stop the shaking and shuddering, huge hot tears rolling down my face as I zoned-in on what could so easily have happened.

"Lucy, Lu-Lu, sweetheart, stop this, now, it didn't happen, it was my stupid fault for taking off my Mark 6 on patrol, I learned my lesson, I never take it off until I'm inside the Bastion, LU! Stop it, please!"

Gradually, my panic died down, and my tears subsided as Charlie rubbed my back, and squeezed and hugged me, telling me he was sorry, and that he would never do anything to prevent him coming back to me, that he loved me, and that he would always be there for me.

He pulled me back down and kissed me some more, rubbing his hands up and down me to take away the fear completely; he was always good at that!

At last, completely calmed, heart-rate back to normal, I asked him if he would take me out for a drink, to get out, and to relax him. I wanted him in a happy frame of mind while he was home, and there was a good pub in the next village.

"Of course, Lu, I would love to be seen out with such a stunner, but I've only got my DPM's with me, my kit and a change of civvies won't arrive for another 48." He grinned, wryly.

"Charlie, I would love to be seen out with a handsome soldier-boy, especially one dressed like you!" I told him, so that was settled.

I suddenly realised he was looking a little drawn, and then I understood why; the poor lamb had just had a 7-hour flight, then several hours of waiting around, followed by an extended pumping session, with a heavy meal thrown in; he must be exhausted, poor baby.

"Charlie, you look wasted, why don't you climb into bed, MY bed, and get some shut-eye. I'll come and get you in a few hours; I want to show-off my pretty boy-soldier!"

He grinned, "That would be a good idea, Lu, I'm pretty bushed. Can I use your washing machine later? I need to wash some of my kit – it's starting to fester!"

"Don't worry, Charlie-boy, I'll do it, you get some rest." I smiled.

"OK," he yawned, "but don't get your red knickers in there, whatever you do; if I turn up at recall with pink kit, they'll put me on a charge for being improperly dressed!"

"Go to bed!" I laughed, "I'll join you shortly.

Charlie winked at me, squeezed my bum and cuddled my boobs, and headed upstairs while I tipped-out his kit bag to sort through his washing.

In amongst all the neatly packed and folded kit, I found a bundle of letters, all addressed to me. Intrigued, I opened one, rationalising my snooping by deciding that, as it was addressed to me, it was, de facto, mine to read. In mounting horror, I read through it, and then tore open another one, then another one, tears blurring my vision as I read one after another. They were all the same; he was writing to me to tell me how frightened he was, how he missed me, how he just wanted it all to be over, about his nightmares over the loss of his men to ambushes, snipers and explosive traps, his sheer, sobbing terror that his turn was coming soon.

Why had he never sent these to me, was he so afraid I would reject him again, gloat and say 'I told you so'? What kind of a horrendous bitch did he think I was?

I tore upstairs, the letters in my hand, just as Charlie stepped out of the bedroom.

"Lu, don't open...." he started, and then saw my expression, and the bundle of letters in my hand. "Lu, please, I can explain..." he began, but all I could say was "Why? Why didn't you send me these, I missed you so desperately, and now I find these, Oh Charlie, poor, poor baby, why didn't you let me know?" I was crying openly now, huge hot tear running down my cheeks.

Charlie gathered me in, sat down on the bed with me on his lap, holding me to him. Wiping my tears away, he began to speak, his voice so low it was almost a whisper.

"When I left, when you saw me off and everything, I knew how angry you were, I could see it, hear it in your voice. I thought you didn't want to know; you once told me I was already dead, but Lu, I still needed you. I wrote to you because it felt like I was telling you how it was for me, I pretended you were reading them, and I imagined you telling me not to worry, it would soon be over, and that was good enough for me. I didn't send them because I didn't think you cared any more. When I kissed you that day at Sandhurst, I was saying goodbye, but it felt like you were saying goodbye, the end. I was so lonely, so scared, but I didn't have anyone to tell it to; you can't share that stuff with the men under your command, not if you want to keep their respect, have you lead them out and trust you to bring them back. I thought you'd washed your hands of me. I should have burned them, Lu, I'm so sorry."

I was writhing in guilt and hot, searing shame as he spoke, every mean, horrible and hurtful thing I had said replaying in my mind. And yet he had talked to me in his head, because he needed me, the imaginary me in his head saying the things I should have said for real, keeping him sane by pretending I still cared about him, but believing I had abandoned him to his fate. His life as a soldier had made him physically a man, but the boy I loved so much had been inside all the time, scared, lonely, in terror for his life, needing me. I had abandoned him to that.

"Oh Charlie" I sobbed, "I was so frightened for you, but I never thought to think how frightened you may have been! Am I really such a miserable bitch that you couldn't even write to me, could you really believe I was so despicable, to desert you, leave you alone out there?" I clung to him, crying even harder, feeling his terror and loss, confronting what I had done to him.

"The worst part, Lu, was Christmas, birthdays, and especially mail-call. It felt so bad, seeing everyone getting birthday cards, letters from home, Christmas gifts, and nothing ever for me. I didn't list you as next of kin, I thought you'd gone, so all I ever got was the standard Army-issue Christmas card sent out by the DLO to the soldiers with no families. It truly felt like I had no family. I even wondered what I was fighting for, who I was fighting for. I didn't honestly expect you to reply when I asked if I could come and stay with you; I thought you hated me."

I was burning with shame. This poor boy had endured all the loneliness and fear, had commanded his men by controlling that fear, had believed he was alone, yet had hope enough to ask me to take him in, all the while believing I wouldn't. And then, when he came home, he had loved me and held me as though the intervening years, the anger and abuse had never happened, wanting nothing but to be with me, after all I had said and done, after I had destroyed his idealism, had not been there for him at all, had left him thinking there was no-one missing him.

But even now, there was no hint of reproach in his voice, or his eyes, he just wanted to clean this stuff out of his head, letting me know that it was alright. But it wasn't, never could be. I had hurt him deeply, almost lost him, and I needed to find him again. I had cried for the boy who was gone forever, now I knew how much I was to blame for driving him away.

I pulled him close to me, holding his sweet face in my hands, looking into his deep, luminous emerald eyes. "Charlie-boy, I swear to you, I'll make it up to you, if it takes a million years, on my soul, I swear I will make up for everything I did, or said, my poor, sweet baby-boy!"

"Lu-Lu, it's alright, it's gone now, I'm here, the past is dead and gone; besides," he pinched my bottom, grinning happily, "I think we may have a new beginning right here; after all, you did fuck me to a standstill; that makes what happened in the past seem pretty fucking distant right now! Look at it this way; I left my sister behind, but I came back to a hot, wasp-waisted, big-tit blonde who fucks like she's on the clock!"

I smiled guiltily at him, and he responded by kissing my tears away, licking my lips and cheek, nuzzling my neck, and squeezing my bum. "No more to say, OK, Lu?"

I nodded, holding tight to this lovely, sweet, cock-pumping hunk of a brother of mine!

"And now, I really am hammered, care to join me?" he invited, indicating the bed.

"OK, Charlie-Boy, but just to sleep, OK? You look just about done-in. When we get up, I want to take you around, show you off a little, make the other girls spit with jealousy!"

In one move, Charlie yanked down my panties and pulled my T-shirt over my shoulders. "In my bed, you sleep naked, sister of mine, understood?" with a devilish grin lighting up his lovely face.

I returned the compliment, tugging down his shorts to reveal a semi-flaccid cock. "When you get into bed with me, little brother, it is NOT clothing optional either, do YOU understand?"

Charlie pulled me close, grabbing my bum and squeezing the cheeks, then pulling them apart to slide a finger into my anus. "So, let's sleep then, if I can keep my hands off you, you lovely big-tit blonde!"

I stroked his cock, smiling. "I said SLEEP, you horse-cocked spunk-factory, I meant sleep. Go on now, hit the hay!"

We dropped onto the bed, Charlie pulling me in close by my bum, kissing me tenderly, very sexily, as he rubbed, squeezed, and jiggled my bum-cheeks. It was all bravado, though. I could see the exhaustion in his eyes, and pulled away from him, to hold him close and plant soft kisses all on his face, neck and chest, rubbing and squeezing his back, and gently rubbing my leg over his thighs. Thirty seconds later, he was out cold, jet-lag and exertion finally catching up with him.

I woke with a start, lying with my back to Charlie, curled in his lap, his arm thrown possessively around me and cuddling my breasts, my head in the crook of his neck. I had meant to lie down with him until he dropped off, but my own exertions, recent emotional wringing, and his warmth and heartbeat had lulled me to sleep as well. I looked at the clock. 2 hours, not too bad, I would give him another hour, then drag him into the shower and buy him dinner anywhere he wanted. I tried to slide out of bed, but at the first hint of movement, his eyes snapped open and he grabbed my arm. Shit, combat reflexes, I'd forgotten about those.

"SSSHHH, Baby, go back to sleep, I'll call you later," I whispered, but he just grinned and pulled me to him, fondling my bum and breasts as he kissed me.

"This is the kind of wake-up call I could get used to" he grinned, his cock stirring against my belly.

"No Charlie, later, you need some more rest!" I insisted, but Charlie just kept-on kissing me, rubbing my nipples, jiggling and squeezing my bottom, warming me up even as I protested.

"Charlie" I tried again, "I mean it, if you start something now, you won't be able to finish it. Don't work me up for nothing!" He grinned, and pulled me close, to whisper in my ear "Two years, Lu-Lu, two fucking years!?"

Oh well, I sighed, if he felt he had the stones, who was I to argue?

I pulled myself closer to him, rubbing my belly up and down his, dragging my stomach up and down his cock, making him gasp and his eyes glitter as his cock firmed-up and stood between us, hard, and warm, ready for action – combat-ready; my kind of soldier!

I started rubbing my hands up and down it as I kissed him, squeezing and pumping as I played with his tongue, his hands rubbing, squeezing and gently pinching me all over, fingers clenching my buttocks, pulling them apart to stretch my anus open again, sliding his hands all the way under me to poke and prod at my slit from the back, his fingertips flicking over my clitoris, making me jump and quiver as I jacked his cock.

Suddenly, he sat up, pulling me to my knees, and then turning me so I was lying face down, facing towards the foot of the bed, my knees under me. Charlie then got to his knees, his hands pulling my hips up so he could run his tongue over my slit, the sensation all the more intense because of the position I was lying in. Now he pulled me closer, until I was virtually lying on his knees, my elbows on the bed, my legs over his upper arms and his hands pulling my buttocks open, as he lapped harder and with more intent at my rapidly moistening vulva, alternating between licking my pussy, my perineum, and my anus.

At one point he stabbed his tongue into my bum hole, moistening the whole area, and then lightly blowing on it, the sudden drop in temperature making my anus contract, making me yelp with the sensation. As my excitement increased, my clitoris slid out from its hiding place, and Charlie started making little passes over it with the tip of his tongue, ramping my arousal even higher, coupled with his insistent rubbing and probing of my vaginal opening with his tongue, poking it in and out like a miniature cock, and sliding his lubricated finger into my anus. At last, I could take no more, my orgasm finally blowing through me in a power-wave that left me gasping for breath, my whole body ringing like a bell, and my ears popping as I screamed out loud, sobbing and gasping as the waves of pleasure rolled through me.

As the tremors subsided, I rolled over onto my back, looking back up at him, realising that this had been for me, and pulling him down to me, to kiss him with my tongue firmly inserted into his mouth, and my hands clamped to his solid buttocks. Charlie slowly pushed his cock into me, mindful of the pummelling he had already given me today, to slowly slide it back out again, and then in, a gentle see-sawing, loving me, making love to me, forgiving me, letting me know that we were OK again. He kept this up steadily, it was delightful, but couldn't last forever; the stimulation was too much for either of us, and I came again, moaning out loud, my cunt clamping down on him, making him groan and shoot his sperm into me in hot jets that washed over my cervix again and again, rolling my orgasm on and on.

Charlie collapsed over me, taking his weight on his forearms, rolling me onto my side facing him, his cock still embedded in me, eventually motioning he was about to withdraw from me.

"Pillowcase?" he grinned,

"Pillowcase" I agreed, handing him one.

After a while, hearts finally slowed to almost normal, we lay, debating whether to get up or not, but, I had promised Charlie a night out, so after a shower, I pressed his DPM's and we headed over to the only pub in the district, so I could show off my cute boy-soldier.

When we walked into the bar, there was an instant flurry of attention. Most of the women there gazed at him wistfully, he looked so gorgeous and masculine, and not a few people offered to buy him drinks, which he politely refused, saying he didn't really drink, he was escorting his girl, which gave me a warm glow inside.

A couple of men I knew, who'd asked me out in the past and been turned down, tried to dig at Charlie, but he just ignored them, talking to me and the landlord, who was an ex-squaddie himself. One of the creeps from earlier shoved his way in front of Charlie, and sneeringly asked if he was a real soldier, or did he just swan around at Tidworth with the rest of the posers and layabouts.

Charlie was going to reply, but I butted in. "Actually, Charlie's a platoon leader, Combat Patrol Team Tango-Zulu 1, Anti-Insurgency Combined Operations with ISAF, based in Helmand, in Afghanistan," I said sweetly, "Twelve hours ago he was leading a sniper suppression patrol in Laskhar Gar, what were you doing?" I was proud of Charlie, and I wasn't going to let some drunken little snot bait him.

I could feel the respect level in the room notch up as everyone realised this idiot in front of Charlie was trying to mess with a combat soldier, not a desk-warmer, and he realised it too, slinking away. I was feeling so proud; my man was a combat soldier, a warrior, an honest-to-goodness Action Hero!

The landlord leaned on the bar and grinned at Charlie. "She's quite something, isn't she?"

"You have no idea!" he grinned back.

"Your money's no good in here, you and your young lady are my guests tonight!" said the landlord, shaking hands with Charlie, one soldier to another.

Now the other girls in the bar were responding more overtly to Charlie. I remembered what Lorna had said about how she wasn't worried about other girls heating-up her brother, because he only wanted to fuck her, now I understood her perfectly!

Already there was a cluster of young girls surrounding him, ogling him while pretending to admire his unit badges, and a bunch of hero-worshipping lads eager to buy him drinks so they could boast they'd drunk with a real combat soldier. One of the girls nudged me, staring at Charlie the whole time.

"How serious is it...you know, you and him, because if he's just a mate or something.....?

"Sorry," I replied, "It's a lifetime thing. Charlie's my man!"

She looked disappointed. "You lucky cow, he's beautiful! If his brother ever comes to town, send him over to me, please!" I flashed a quick, commiserating grin, but I couldn't help but feel exceedingly proud that this lovely hunky specimen was mine.

The rest of the evening went very well; the landlord sending over a continuous stream of drinks and food, stopping by to share a few reminiscences with us, ask us if we wanted anything, and generally making Charlie welcome. He had served in Iraq under dad, and he grew very friendly when Charlie told him that Col. Manville, his old CO was his father (while somehow neglecting to mention I was his sister!) He also asked if the pace had changed since the escalation from Iraq, and while Charlie was telling him about life in Camp Bastion, I reached over and parted his hair to show the bullet scar, making his eyes widen, a concerned expression settling on his face.

"Remember one thing, son" he said in a low voice, "if you don't keep your Mark 6 buckled-on tight and your Osprey buckled up properly, you're in a world of trouble, believe me. I know those things are uncomfortable, but so's a bullet through the seam because you left it open." Words of wisdom, indeed.

After a very restful and enjoyable evening, we headed back to the house. I had been giving Charlie some rather obvious signals for a while now, and he, poor lamb, was just not fully tuned in to Radio Lucy; instead, he was drinking a coke, munching a sausage, and happily tapping his foot to the music from the jukebox. After a while, tired of trying to get him to take the hint, I had to lean in and whisper in his ear.

"I have an itch you need to scratch!" He looked at me open-mouthed, so I stuck my chest out for emphasis. That was when the penny dropped. Gulping down his coke, he grabbed me and hustled me out of the bar, waving his goodbyes to everyone, in a sudden hurry to get to the car.

We slid in, Charlie commenting on how nice it was, that BMW's were his favourite cars. I took the keys out, grabbed his head and pulled him in for a long sexy kiss, and dropped them in his hand.

"It's yours, Baby-Boy, a gift from me, because I love you – and to say I'm sorry."

Charlie was speechless, stammering out that he couldn't take my new car; I silenced him with another kiss.