Army Times Ch. 02

"Come on, you can do it. Cum in my mouth Chip."

Oddly, telling me to do it eased me back from the orgasm that was building, I wanted nothing more than to blow into her mouth after fucking her ass and pussy. But having it vocalized at that very moment yanked me back from the beginnings of the orgasm; not completely but enough so that she noticed and clamped her hand tighter around the Little Man, like she would choke it out of him.

She lightly licked my cock and sucked on the head while single handedly trying to wring it out like a wet towel about to be put on a line to dry.

Trina took her left hand and started playing with my asshole and balls while using her right hand to stroke my cock while she sucked me.

As she slid her middle finger into my ass, I came. Hard. It wasn't a particularly large load, I mean hell it was the third one of the day. I spewed into her mouth and she eagerly swallowed it. After I was spent, she crawled up next to me and collapsed next to me. "Do you know if that clock is right?" she asked. Glancing at the clock it showed 8:30

"Yeah, it was when I checked in."

"Shit! I've to go; I'll never make it back before Lights Out. I'll see you tomorrow if I don't get in trouble." Trina quickly pulled on her trousers and shirt, grabbed her boots and headed out the door.

I stood at the window with my head stuck through the curtains and watched her go. My balls were light and I was completely satisfied, it had been a great day but I knew that Trina would be in trouble for being out after curfew and probably would not be back the next day. Part of me was glad, because I didn't think I could handle another evening like that so soon. Part of me wasn't, because: Well I am not sure why, other than the sex was great.

*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*

It was pretty early in the morning, I had woke up sore and stiff. Craning my neck around to look into a mirror while I had my back pointed toward it, I could see several bruises on my back from Trina's boots. I put on some shorts and a t-shirt and went for a jog.

I wasn't looking to exercise so much as to clear the cobwebs from my head and loosen my back up some.

When I got back and opened the door to the hotel room, the smell of the prior night's sex invaded my nose. I decided to air out the room by blocking the door open while I smoked a cigarette outside the door and drink the cup of coffee that I had picked up at the café attached to the hotel. Halfway through the cup of coffee, the door to the room next door opened and a smartly dressed elderly man walked out, saying, "Yes dear, I sure will."

Closing his door he espied me sitting there and beamed, "Good Morning young man."

"Good morning, sir."

"Dick Chapman," he said extending his hand. I stood and proffered him my hand and as we shook I said, "Chip Johnson, a pleasure to meet you."

"Chip, would you and your wife like to join the missus and I for breakfast? Our treat. We would love the company."

"Uh, sure, but there isn't a wife; she was a friend of mine and is probably getting her butt chewed out by the First Sergeant this morning."

"Well, I am certainly sorry to hear about her misfortune with the First Shirt, but the offer is still open to you, young man." Mr. Chapman had a kind friendly look and voice, and appeared to be earnest about his invitation.

Wondering how much of Trina's caterwauling they heard, I said, "Sure, in about twenty minutes so I can shower?"

"Wonderful, we'll meet you in the café," he said headed back to his room. When he opened the door I could hear him say, "Change of plans, Mother...." The door closed cutting off whatever else he had said to her. My room still smelled like sex and sweat but breakfast was in the offing and I was famished, dinner last night was pussy and ass, and while filling in their own way, not very damn nutritious.

I showered and got dressed and headed back to the café, having barely cleared the door when I saw an arm waving at me from off to the left.

I headed over to Mr. Chapman and his wife. What can I say about the Chapman's? In short they were the cutest damned couple anyone could hope to be in their late 60's or early 70's. Mrs. Chapman had the stereotypical blue-white hair that was/is fashionable in the Deep South. Mr. Chapman was still dressed like a southern gentleman, wearing a seer sucker sport coat over his shirt. I figured by noon he would lose the jacket; it was suppose to be sweltering in Augusta that day. Mrs. Chapman was wearing a lavender sun dress with yellow flowers and looked like she was headed for an afternoon mint julep someplace. As I approached, Mr. Chapman stood up and shook my hand again, and said, "Chip, this is my beautiful bride of 45 years, Eugenia Chapman. Eugenia this is Chip Johnson, he is in the room next to us."

Mrs. Chapman extended her hand to me, and lightly kissing the last knuckle of her forefinger, I said, "Mrs. Chapman, it is a pleasure to meet you and your husband."

I slid into the booth across from them and heard, "Honey, can I get you something to drink?" in that distinctly beautiful Georgian lilting drawl.

Let me tell you, if I have a weakness that is it. A woman from Georgia can sit lecturing on the merits of black ants over red ants and I will sit in rapt attention with a hard on. I glanced to my right and saw that the voice belonged to a fairly attractive woman in her mid twenties, with brown hair and brown eyes with that perpetual "I am bored and you are wasting my time so order already" look on her face.

Giving her my best half grin I said, "Coffee please."

Rewarded with a smile, she said, "Be right back, sugar." Oh what a voice. The Chapmans and I chatted for a while. They were from Kentucky and were in Augusta to play some golf with some friends of theirs, and no not at the National Club, though he wanted to. I explained I was in the service and was flying to Indianapolis in the morning to be stationed at Fort Ben Harrison for a change in career field.

"Here you go, sweetie." I swear each time she spoke my dick got harder. "You folks ready to order?"

Mrs. Chapman ordered sunny side up eggs, Mr. Chapman ordered hard fried eggs, and being famished I ordered the chicken fried steak breakfast. And off went the waitress to place the order for us.

"I bet you are hungry, young man," Mr. Chapman said with a huge smile. Mrs. Chapman blushed, and for just a second I was confused, and then I realized they must have heard Trina's monologue last night. My mouth formed a perfect "O" as I figured it out, Mrs. Chapman blushed deeper and Mr. Chapman smiled larger.

"I mean the missus and I got to the room at 5:30 and could hear that you had already been going at 'it' for a while. She hollered and screamed for you to do things to her until after 8:30. That was a show of amazing stamina my boy." Now Mrs. Chapman's face was so red I thought she was going to bleed from each pore.

And from behind me, I heard in that sweet as molasses voice, "Oh my god. He screwed someone for three hours?!"

I turned my head to see the waitress standing right off of my shoulder a pot of coffee in each hand, apparently it was her turn to make an 'O' out of her mouth, because she stood there slacked jawed. "I haven't heard of anyone doing that for so long before," she said while looking at me like I was some sort of freak of nature, or that she wanted to gobble me up. I wasn't sure which.

Mr. Chapman, being the helpful sort of man he was, said, "No, longer. They had already going at it when we got there."

The waitress blushed and in a fluster walked off, not even topping off our coffee cups. Smiling I chased after her, and gently extricated the pot of regular coffee out of her hand, "No, really I should..." she said with a blush while looking away.

I smiled and said, "Nah, I got it, go relax for a minute.

I topped off our three cups and everyone else, all four or five of them, in the café and then placed the pot back on the burner. As I sat back down, Mr. Chapman gave me a quizzical look, I shrugged and said, "Well, I'd hate for her to lose her tips, just because we embarrassed her."

Mr. Chapman laughed while Mrs. Chapman said, "That is very considerate of you, dear." I murmured thanks and we continued talking about this and that, just allowing the conversation to flow wherever it went.

Eventually, our food was delivered by the other waitress, which of course got Mr. Chapman and I laughing, while Mrs. Chapman tried to shush us. This, predictably, had the opposite effect.

Somehow, they talked me into going out on the golf course with them as a 'caddy.' Not knowing one lick about golf, I learned that meant I walked the course while they played, I chatted with her while he shot, chatted with him while she shot and both of them while their playing partners shot. I don't know how well they shot, I just know other than the fact it was like walking through a blast furnace, it was a very pleasurable afternoon.

It was on the golf course that I learned that their only son had been drafted into Vietnam and never came home. Though he probably could have gotten a only son exemption to the draft order, he went anyway. Officially listed as a MIA in that no body was ever found, they had resigned themselves to the fact that he was indeed dead. Through the course of the afternoon they talked a lot about their son, and periodically one of us, if not all three of us, spent time bawling our eyes out.

After the round we stopped by the clubhouse and had a couple of beers while they tried to invite me to a friends house for dinner that evening, I successfully begged out of dinner, reminding them that it was more or less impolite to invite a stranger into another's house. Mrs. Chapman agreed with that point but insisted that she and her husband take me to the airport the following morning, to which I agreed.

We got back to the hotel around 4:30 and I faced a conundrum. The only set of civilian clothes that I had, were sweat stained from two consecutive days of wear and dinner was fast approaching. I called the front desk and found out that the hotel did not have a laundromat, but there was one about a block away. So I put on those lovely bumble bees and headed over to it.

On my way out of the parking lot, I saw the waitress from that morning heading back toward the café, I smiled and asked, "Forgot something?"

"No, I am headed back in to work the dinner rush," She said, not quite averting her gaze but certainly not looking me in the eye.

Giving her my best half grin I said, "Okay, well enjoy; and say, I do apologize for the embarrassment this morning."

"Oh, it's okay, no problem. I really have to go to work," I watched her go into the diner, she had really nice legs and a great sashay. As the door closed I caught a glimpse of her looking back at me, I smiled and headed off to the laundromat.

The only people inside the laundromat were a lady in her early to mid forties, a younger woman, around my age, who was entertaining her young baby. Good thing there were so few of us. The laundromat's air-conditioning was apparently the propped open front door. Needless to say it was wet sauna like in there and everyone had a thick sheath of perspiration coating them

The lady in her forties was on the pay phone and was having a heated conversation with someone, and was spectacularly unattractive. But she did have that sweet Georgian lilting drawl, so after I started my load of laundry, I sat where I could hear her, and see the younger, more attractive mother playing with her child. It didn't take long for me to zone off some listening to one woman, fantasizing about the other, and soon my dick was getting hard and slithering its way toward the bottom of my shorts.

As I moved my load of laundry from the washer to the dryer, I heard one of the other dryers buzz and the younger woman got up and began folding her laundry. The older woman had finished her argument and had dropped a quarter into the pay phone and started a new conversation in a much gentler tone of voice. Sitting back down, I stretched out and half closed watching the younger woman fold clothes.

She must have been breast feeding her child, because although she did not have huge breasts they were extremely full looking; kind of like two soft fleshy cantaloupes, ripe enough to be peeled and eaten at leisure. They swayed left and right like the pendulum on a grandfather clock and soon I was completely mesmerized and could no longer help myself really. I just stared at them through my half closed eye lids and imagined what it would be like to tit fuck her. My mind moved right along, carrying me with it, to imagining what it would be like to fuck a breast feeding mother, while sucking the milk from her. I didn't know what it would be like, but I thought it would be fabulous fun to find out.

For a few minutes I continued to listen to the hag chat happily away while imagining suckling on the breasts fifteen feet away from me. Before long, the younger woman loaded several baskets into her car, and took off, leaving me with the hag. The hag's conversation continued until her dryer buzzed, keeping me in a high state of arousal. She quickly folded her laundry and headed out the door. She stopped at the door, looked at me and said, "You pervert. Sitting there with that, that THING!" and bolted out the door.

Thinking briefly back to Trina's ass the night before, I laughed and thought if you only knew; if you only knew.

Closing in on 6:00 when I headed back to the hotel, I grabbed some Burger King on the way back and ate outside the room, enjoying the increasingly more pleasant late afternoon, early evening heat. About 7:00 I went in and took a shower and got dressed, I was headed to the bar across the way to see what manner of trouble might lurk there. As I walked by the café, I saw the waitress from earlier running food to a table near the windows and I waved to her. She blushed lightly and waved back. I pointed to myself and then at the bar across the street and mouthed "Can I buy you a drink?" She seemed to understand as she looked across the street and then me and softly shook her head no. I mouthed "okay' and played dodge ball with traffic to get to the bar.

The bar was a dank, dark, smelly dive with a dozen, maybe a dozen and a half, people in it, most of whom were smoking. In one corner was a pool table and dart board, in another corner lay a small dance floor that probably couldn't hold more than three or four couples, on the right side was the bar, neon signs all aglow. A dozen or so tables with four torn red vinyl chairs each. There was Georgia Bulldog memorabilia all over the place; posters, helmets, footballs, jerseys and so on. Not a good place for a fan of Georgia Tech or Florida to visit, fortunately I really had no favorites when it came to college football (American style). The restrooms were all the way in the back of the place and a jukebox was stationed just outside the hallway leading to them. Some country western song was blaring from the Juke. I ordered a beer and a Tanqueray and tonic. I wasn't sure which I wanted more, but the beer seemed like the more refreshing option and I drained it pretty quick while standing at the bar.

I took the Tanq and tonic to the table closest to the left hand wall and sat down, leaning against the wall and listened to the conversations around me. Not so much the words as the tone of voice and the accents. A couple of the ladies nearby had that honey sweet voice I loved to hear and I relaxed and sipped my drink maintaining a half hard cock the whole while. As I went to the bar and ordered my second drink, I noticed that a pretty brunette at the bar was watching me. She followed me both ways and as I sat back down, I pointed at one of the chairs at the table and smiled to her. She smiled back and shook her head, so I leaned back onto the wall and closed my eyes, to continue sipping and eavesdropping. Soon I heard, "...Sally." Had I dozed off? No, I knew I hadn't, somewhere in my mind I was fucking the voice to my right.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" I opened my eyes and the brunette was standing behind the chair to my left.

The honey sweet voice said, "I said, can I join you and my name is Sally." That is when it hit me. This was the waitress!

"Changed your mind about the drink I see," I said. Now looking at her for the first time really, she was fairly pretty. She had the big hair that the country and western crowd in the 1980's favored, pale skin, and brown eyes, which all in all were fairly unremarkable. She had a slender body, bumpy in the right places and was flat enough in the right places. She looked a damn sight better in blue jeans, tank top and sandals than she had in that orange and yellow polyester outfit from the "Maude" TV show. "Please do, my name is Chip."

"Thanks, what a day," she said. Truly she looked exhausted, and maybe the prettier for it. She looked more relaxed than I had seen all day. "I hate working doubles." I sat all four legs of my chair on the floor and scooted back a bit, looking at her, "I mean the money is okay and all, but it is long hours." Hooking the front right leg, and back left leg with my feet I pulled her close with my feet. Blushing slightly, "What are you doing?"

Caressing her face with my left hand I said, "Somehow I don't think you are here to discuss the hours you worked today. Are you?"

A shocked, nearly horrified look crossed her pretty face and while blushing she shook her head no. "Finish your drink and let's go."

"So soon?" she whispered.

I nodded my head, "Let's run by the liquor store, we'll get a bottle of bourbon and some coke and we'll lounge around my hotel room and chat and have a drink or two until you are comfortable."

She drove us to the liquor store and waited in the car while I went in and got a bottle of Jim Beam and a six-pack of coke. I jumped back in to the car and Sally looked a little ashen. "Are you okay?" I asked.

Silently she nodded, put the car into gear and he headed back to the hotel. As we parked the car she said, "Look, honey, I don't want you to get the wrong opinion of me. I normally don't and wouldn't do this type of thing." Between her voice and her vulnerability my cock was raging in my pants, trying to get at her.

I leaned over, gave her a peck on the cheek and said, "We haven't done anything and won't unless you want to. And if you get drunk we aren't going to regardless of whether you want to or not. Okay?" She feebly nodded her head, I grabbed the bag containing the Beam and coke and said, "I am headed in, you can come along if you want, or you can go home and always wonder." Mean, I know, but I really wanted to hear a Georgian drawl moan, groan and sigh, I was thinking it would be HOT!

I unlocked the door, put the bag on the table by the door and grabbed the bucket to go get ice and Sally was there in the doorway. "Come on in, I'll get us some ice."

She nodded her head and I left her in the room to get the ice. Surprisingly, she was still there when I got back. I poured a Beam and Coke for her and Beam on the rocks for myself, handed her drink to her and sat down in the other chair. For about an hour I coaxed a conversation out of her. She was native to Augusta and had never left Georgia. She had graduated high school and married her high school sweetheart only to divorce him about a year previously; the good thing she said is that they didn't have any kids.

I excused myself and went outside to smoke a cigarette and mull over how and if I wanted to proceed. I should point out here that I sleep in pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, for whatever reason I have always hated the feel of my thighs rubbing together when I sleep. As such I always have the bottoms and t-shirt folded, and they sit on the bed just below the pillow, so no matter how drunk I am, when I go to bed I can find them.