Catherine Ch. 10

Re-packing my bug-out-bag with extra things to keep me warm and dry -- the extra socks for sure. Frank already knows I won't be in tomorrow, I've taken the day off so I can be at the base, checking vehicles and equipment in preparation for our convoying up-state.

The rest of the outfit will trickle in all day -- they have to be here by 1:pm, ready to move out by three -- hopefully that's before the snow starts. At convoy speed the drive is about four, five hours, baring any vehicle break downs.

As far as Catherine getting home, I'm sure she is, or maybe she went straight to her friends home -- I'd love to be a fly on those walls this weekend! My imagination running wild about what goes on when they get together. Who ever "HE" is, -- he's one lucky man, fucking those two women. I wonder what he does for a living, what does he look like? Hell, I wonder what his wife looks like too. My stomach is twisted up in knots.

Now at last we're moving out, the Captains' briefing was short, we've all been through this many, many times before -- every body knows the drill, so they just do it. The Captain's only warning was, "I better not hear that damn music when we move out -- asses will be in the wringer if I do! Right Swaggart?" The Captain looking at me. Where I know it's already going happen anyway, but I give him what he wants to hear, a snappy, "Yes Sir!"

Everyone's mounted up, engines start, the local police hold up traffic so we can get on the road in one twenty vehicle line. But just about the time the trail vehicle hits the road, it's there, loud and clear, "The Ride of the Valkyries!" Blaring loud and clear from a loud speaker in some vehicle in line behind us.

Riding point, the Captain won't stop the whole convoy just to find the disobeying culprits. Where I look over at Captain Henderson to see his head turning from side to side in resigned disgust. Who looks back at me, "What the fuck are you looking at Sargent Swaggart," he says. "Keep your eyes on the damn road, and don't you fucking laugh either," he says.

"Who me sir?" Acting naive.

Captain Henderson, plus the two other guys riding in back break up laughing anyway. "But sir, it's become their theme song," I'm telling him.

"Don't let the Colonel hear you say that Swaggart," the Captain's telling me. "Remember he went ape shit when he heard it," he says.

"That's a fucking stupid movie, about the fucking Army," he said. "There will, "NOT," be any fucking Army in my Marine Corps," Captain Henderson repeating the Colonel's words, just as snow flakes begin landing on the windshield.

The snow has stayed light until we get closer to the mountains where it really starts coming down -- wind driven horizontal flakes making it difficult to see, so everything has slowed to a crawl. An not until almost eleven do we pull into the training area.

An with the vehicle lights giving most of the illumination, and engines still running, we begin unloading equipment. It's 2:am when just about what needs to be set up is completed -- most importantly, the mess tent, with a generator, lights, and most importantly, hot coffee!

MRE's will bet the cuisine "Du Jour" for the weekend. But getting out of the cold and wind to eat them with a cup of hot coffee, it'll be almost like being back home on the farm.

A few NCO's, including me, will bunk out for a few hours in a vehicle, windows cracked, engine running. Five AM Saturday begins the real training with a cross country hike to an objective marked on a topographical map using only a compass, no GPS will be used until they're at the objective location. Then we'll check the position using GPS before radioing the coordinates back to command, who already knows the correct ones.

An being a ranking NCO, with more experience doing this than I wish I did, where I'm assigned to monitor and evaluate this squads performance. Where I have a GPS and a radio as well as the squad leader -- but his is turned off. Mine is just for crosschecking. It's the squad leader making the decisions, alternating the point man with the compass, and topographical map, giving each man in the squad the leadership to the objective.

It's been slow going do to the depth of the snow, at least eight inches fell last night, on top of seven or eight that was already on the ground from a previous snow fall, so it's slow going even with our light weight snow shoes.

About noon the squad halts, checking the map and land marks, then break out their GPS, as I do the same, cross checking the devices, before they radio in the coordinates. These guys are almost spot on. Now they have to find their way back to camp by a different route than the one that got them here. Again using only a compass and topographical map. Where we're back in camp in about half the time it took to find the objective.

Sitting in the mess tent with some hot coffee and check list of evaluation boxes to fill in on how each man in the squad did on the exercise. This will be easy, they did very well -- it was a real team effort! With that finished I can sit back and warm up some more, but the thoughts I had last night as I tried to get a few hours of sleep are back. Its only the distraction of today's exercise that kept them at bay -- what was she doing, my imagination running wild as always!

Beautiful sexy Catherine, naked in their,"warm bed!"

Naked, "HIM," with two naked women, Catherine, and the other, his wife, sharing deep tongue kisses, now his dick in Catherine mouth, now moving between Catherine's long beautiful legs, her wrapping them around his back as ,"HE" thrust, "HIS," dick back, and forth in her sweet pussy. Catherine grinding back against him, then dogie fucking, then Catherine cow girl riding,"HIM," -- that really gets her off! It was her telling me that herself, "It's my favorite way to fuck when I'm want to cum," She said. I certainly know it too! Now imagining Catherine eating, "HIS," wife's pussy in a hot sixty-nine -- their fingers probing, stroking into each other, Catherine's beautiful, "lady-dick," the wife's center of attention. Sighs, whispers, moans, Catherine's orgasmic cries -- the wife with hers'! Then doing it all again with,"HIM," doing those two women -- fucking all night in that,"warm bed!"

I don't know him, but I think I hate him! No, not think, know!

But it's orders being shouted outside snapping me back from where I was -- with them. So I'm up an outside to find out the orders are a three mile trek to secure a road intersection and hold it till ordered to leave. But on returning to camp, the wind has picked up, and it's snowing sideways now.

I love training for winter operations -- give me the fucking desert anytime!

It was slippery, and slow going, both up and back, so getting a dry pair of socks out of my bug-out bag an change them in the med tent after reminding my people to do the same. Also making sure the medics are checking for frost bite. With temps in the teens, it can happen pretty quick -- another reminder for winter operations. And with the temps dropping into the single digits tonight, I'll be reminding the vehicle drivers to start their vehicle engines an let them run long enough to warm the oil. I'll sleep in the Humvee again, with my watch alarm set to go off every two hours so I can check that every one has been doing their engine runs, and guard duty change overs.

Sunday, and with the weather even more shitty, the orders are to pack up, and get ready to move out. With the vehicles stopping by the fuel truck to fill up, we're pretty much ready to pull out. In a combat situation, this pulling out early may not be an option. But this being only a training exercise, there's no sense getting people hurt, frost bit, or a vehicle accident on slippery roads.

Driving slow, it will take hours longer getting home, but better safe than sorry. Pulling into the base, The Ride of the Valkyries blaring like it usually does on our return, is left for another day, the lateness of our arrival might be to much for the locals.

After the vehicles fuel up, it's back to our area to unload, check equipment, write up any gripes, mechanical issues -- nobody got hurt this weekend, so no long medical write ups. After all of that, it's form up to hear Captain Henderson tell everyone he was pleased with how the exercise went -- good job, his compliment to all. Then everyone's dismissed to go home. I still have another hour of paper work, last minute checks, then I'm on my way home too. Pulling into my driveway, it's one in the morning.

Dumping the contents of my bug-out-bag on the garage floor, sorting through it, setting things aside that need to dry out and or washed scattered around the floor. I'll put back what I usually have in it when I get home tomorrow, or the next day.

Back in the kitchen I set up the coffee maker for tomorrow morning, then into the den to check emails, none from Catherine of course. One from Sally telling me how nice it was for her, Erin, an Alice, Sally's grandmother, to see me she wrote, an hoped my Reserve weekend went well. I'll call them sometime tomorrow to let her know again how very proud of Erin I am, and how much I enjoyed the play and seeing all of them too.

An not even taking my uniform off, I flop on the bed, wishing I could smell Catherine's warm body in what could have been a very wrecked, and messed up bed. I loved the smell of her in the morning, possibly never knowing that again now. Looking at the bedside table to see, 3:am -- maybe three hours of sleep before facing Monday.

The alarm going off surprises me awake -- I don't remember setting it. But waking me up is usually my full bladder and piss hard-on being my usual alarm clock. Sally loved the piss hard on! A lot of mornings she took advantage of it. I usually couldn't cum if I had to pee, but she didn't really care, it was just fun getting Sally off before Erin woke up. Catherine asked if I always woke up like that too -- also experiencing it like Sally did. But that seems like a long time ago now.

The drive to the train station an the train ride into town, my usual routine. I picked up a newspaper at the usual news stand on my walk to our building. Got my usual breakfast sandwich, and sat down at our usual table, but so far, I'm the only one here this morning, until it's somebody on the other side of the table pulling out a chair, "How was your reserve weekend? Get any snow up there," it's John asking, as he sits down with his usual cup of coffee and dough nut.

"It was a bitch John," telling him. "I froze my ass off, and it snowed like a son-of-bitch -- my toes are still thawing out," Telling him my misery.

"Well, I'm glad you had nice weekend," he jabs at me.

"Yeah John, thanks a lot," my reply.

"Have you heard from your girlfriend," John's asking now. Him being quite interested in Catherine.

"No John I haven't," telling him. "She had a lot of things to do over the last week and half. Like family issues, plus being in D.C. most of last week, then she had plans for this past weekend too," telling him like it was.

"So, you still haven't heard from her then," he presses.

"No, I haven't," replying.

But right after saying that, my cell phone buzzes alerting to a text message. Reaching back for my jacket I hung on the chair back to get the phone from an inside pocket an looking at the screen where it's..., Shit! "how r u" -- It's a text from Catherine,

Then from John "They must be activating your unit," he says. "An shipping your asses off to Alaska, seeing as how you're already freshly frozen."

"K, & u," my text back to Catherine. Then to John, "Not that bad," telling him.

"Oh, the girlfriend then," he says

"Yeah," telling John.

"And," John ask.

"Just asking if I'm okay," telling him.

"That's it?" John's rely.

"Yeah! Why," asking him.

"You're not going to call her, and tell her you love her, you've missed her, and you'll craw on your belly all the way from frozen Alaska to be by her side," John chiding me.

"No John, I won't," telling him

"Shit Swaggart, not only are you a cheap date, you suck as a romantic too, he says. "It's no wonder she dumped you," poking fun at me.

Getting up from my chair, "Go to Hell John," no body got dumped. It was just taking a step back," telling him.

"Yeah sure," he says back. "Not hearing from her for..., what, almost two weeks," he says. "Sounds like it's a lot of steps back to me old boy. Maybe you'll have better luck with her sister..., you did say she has a twin sister," he's saying.

Unfortunately it's John reminding I told told him about Catherine having a twin sister.

"It'll be like, girlfriend part deux." he says. Another dig at me.

"You know Swaggart...," John saying. "I still have the card with your girlfriend's office number. Maybe I'll call her up, ask her out -- take HER, to a NICE place," John trying to stick it to me.

"Sure John," telling him. "You would stand about as much chance with her as a snowball in hell. She likes nice guys, like me, with big dicks. Not guys like you, who are just..., BIG dicks!" Throwing shade all over him.

Where its his, "FUCK YOU Swaggart," he says. Where we laugh all the way over to the coffee bar to fill up on another to take up to class.

Hanging up my jacket first before walking to the windows to stare over at that IIG building, an wondering why she didn't reply back to my text? Maybe it was just her way of knowing I got back from my Reserve weekend okay. We did share something very intimate and close all these weeks.

Maybe too, telling her again how I feel about her scared her off? But she did say she has some, her words, "Very strong feelings for me." And I really think I heard her say something more than just that. But again, it was just my wishful thinking. And for the rest of the day I keep hoping she'll get back to me.

Waking up Tuesday morning, an checking my cell phone -- still nothing back from Catherine. But on the train into town, my cell phone buzzes with a full text, "Sorry, got pulled away yesterday. We need to talk, not sure when yet." Gets my heart skipping beats, an touching that spot where that temporary pace maker was implanted.

Damn, I haven't felt that in a long time. Where it's thinking, maybe I should call her? But no, if she's not sure when, I'll wait on her. But oh God, a glimmer of hope?

An still all day, not another thing from her. Damn Catherine Parker, you're really turning the screws, aren't you? An riding the train home, staring out the window all the way with thoughts of her, thoughts of school, thoughts of Catherine, thoughts of Sally and Erin, thoughts of Catherine, then like a robot I get off the train, and walk to my truck. An while taking out my keys I realize -- I don't remember hearing the conductor calling out the station stop.

Turning into my drive way, first checking the mail box, to find, not just the usual junk mail, those, "You May Be The Winner Of''s" it's a package. It's the book I ordered from that book store in Cincinnati the return address telling me.

Laying the mail on the island top, and before I even hang my jacket in the hall closet, I put on some coffee, place the leftovers from last nights take out in the microwave, setting it to stun.

Then back to opening the package to see --YES! It's the right one. The book I've been looking weeks for. Nobody local ever heard of it. But my desperate search of the Internet located a small book store in Ohio that might have it. Then a phone call confirming it was the right one, where I bought it over the phone.

An now at least I'll have something to do tonight, instead of what I've been doing for the last two weeks, beating my self up over my stupid suggestion of -- stepping back.