Everybody Wants a Soldier

After his second orgasm inside of her he stood up and took her hands to raise her from the sofa. He gave her a soft kiss on the lips and a sly wink before walking away, leaving her there in her half dressed state, fresh fucked hairdo, and a load of cum slowly running down her thigh. Having just had an intense climax of her own, it was all she could do to just stand there.

The room was suddenly alive with music. It came from the door of the bedroom, but filled out the living room nicely. A rolling, melodic baseline, some light strings and acoustic guitars and a mellow, relaxing down tempo beat. A hand on Melissa's back made her jump in surprise. Her little rational self had decided to wake up again and asked her what she was afraid of, it was just Denny. It seemed to have forgotten that it was a Denny fully intent on a night of limitless sex.

Denny had sneaked up behind her and was unclasping her bra. He tossed it aside and diverted his attention to the skirt still clinging to her hips. It stayed in place no matter what he did though, until Melissa took his hands and guided them to a small zipper on the side. The skirt fell to the floor and Denny's hand stayed on her hips, then moved slowly to the front and down to her crotch. One finger sunk in, then another one pushed itself in beside it. His other hand cupped a breast and both hands pushed her body up tight against his.

Of all the memories from that night, none was as firmly imprinted in Melissa's memory as the dance. Denny had only wanted to set the mood, but as Melissa began to sway with the music, her buttocks ground themselves against his cock. As it grew hard, the movement slipped it into her crack and she squeezed her butt cheeks around it. Denny started to match her movements, pushing the fingers in her pussy up against her clit to the tempo of the beat. It was a slow tune, and it didn't seem to ever end. So while swaying dream-like to the rhythm, rubbing back to chest, ass to shaft and hands to pussy, they managed to keep themselves in a delirious state of excitement, just under the threshold of orgasms.

It was just a matter of time before one of them would snap and the tranquil moment would explode into a frantic rutting right there on the floor. It was torture, utter, delicious, delirious torture, but she was determined to hold out the longest. The only problem was, so was Denny. Neither would budge for half of that bloody CD filled with the same kind of erotically charged slow beat music. Half her world was filled with that incredible constant pleasure, and the other with agony over not reaching any further. Jaws were clenched, sweat was running, breaths were short. Melissa suddenly realized that she was biting her lip until she could taste blood.

Then the music stopped.

Finally, finally, Denny could not take it any more.

He gave up a primal roar that in any normal state of mind would have terrified Melissa, but now she could just echo it with a frustrated scream of her own. Denny wrapped his strong arms around her, lifted her feet off the ground and ran into the bedroom where he threw her headfirst onto the bed. She tried to turn around, but he was too fast, and before she could even catch her breath, he had grabbed her legs from behind, pulled them apart and plunged his cock deep into her. She could only lie there, face down into the mattress, ass high and legs lifted wide and high as Denny ravaged her hole like a madman. She came in an instant, an explosion of sensation unlike anything she'd ever had in her life, her scream muffled by the pillow she had tried to desperately cling on to. Wave after wave of ecstasy, a Fourth of July in every nerve in her body.

Denny just kept on going, stretching her legs in an almost painful position. But she didn't care. She was in the delirious last throes of her own orgasm when he slammed his body against her harder than ever before and shot yet another gush of hot white semen into her. They collapsed in a trembling heap of sweat and limbs, unable to speak, move or even think for several minutes.

And the night had just begun. There were earnest missionary lovemaking in the bed, various samples of blowjobs and tongue work, wild doggy style humping in the kitchen and tender caressing of soapy skin under a hot shower.

Melissa even let her brother break her last chastity barrier, and with a lot of sensual massaging, comforting murmured words and careful application of love juices as lubricant, Denny loosened up her virgin asshole with his fingers, and could finally claim her anal cherry. It hurt a bit at first, and a lot as he started to pull out of her, and move in and out as gently as he could. But Melissa clenched her fists and endured the discomfort, happy that Denny's moans told her just how wonderful it must feel for him. Eventually the pain numbed down and was replaced with a fantastic feeling of fullness. She could feel how the sensitive spots in her pussy were stimulated—but from behind, and whole new places of pleasure were revealed to her as Denny's cock pumped fully in and out of her in a steady pace. She couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have her pussy fucked at the same time. The next best thing, Denny's fingers, buried themselves in her snatch, and before she knew it all conscious thoughts were replaced by another earthquake orgasm.

V. DAYS ROLL BY

And now he was gone. The sounds of Denny's beat-up old Fiesta faded away in the distance, and with it the short fix of happiness that Melissa had clung on to that crazy night. He went from filling her every hole to becoming another kind of hole. A Denny shaped hole that nothing else could ever really fill. With a sigh Melissa turned and walked the steps up to her front porch where she sat down and wearily leaned herself against the wall. She stared emptily, in front of her as the early morning turned a little less early and the streets woke up. Reluctantly she started to realize that the magic summer was over and that real life was waiting around the corner. It was back to being just OK enough to get by. But she wasn't sure she would cope with that this time around. Not when she had had the taste of something more, something better than this.

It wasn't the sex. That had just been a flimsy kind of silly, spur-of-the-moment thing. And what she felt for Denny was not that kind of love; she had no desire to throw herself into his arms again and give him her heart, soul and body. That fate, someone to marry, make babies with and live happily ever after with, belonged to someone else. She'd probably stumble into Prince Charming Enough some day and set that ball in motion. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that her feelings for Denny weren't something that she could even put into words. It was a connection that went beyond mere friendship, or maybe as deep as friendship could possibly go. A state of common ground that made everything easy, everything allowed. They had fucked like wild animals, brother and sister in a forbidden act that she knew should shock her, possibly even gross her out. But together they operated in a universe of their own where they set the rules. They had been horny and hot on doing each other. A nice way to say goodbye, nothing else. What they did or didn't do was nobody else's damn business to judge.

Thinking back to the night before, the smells and sounds, the sensation of having man-meat sliding in and out of her made her all warm and fuzzy inside, and she felt a tingle of excitement between her legs. Well, no Denny to ask for an encore, but on the other hand, she didn't really need that particular guy for that.

She dug into her bag and came up with a cell phone. Musing, she toggled down through the phonebook. There were enough willing old flames and one night stands in there to keep her busy until menopause. Alexander...no, she dumped him and he got pretty grumpy. She made a mental note to remove his number. Brett ...is at work all day. Brian ...too much ego, too little effort. She quickly skipped over the letter D and went on. Elian maybe? Yeah, that's it. Cute Colombian guy with an English sense of humor, drives cabs on odd hours, loves to go down on her. He'll do just fine. Plus, last time she slept with him, he had asked her if he could take her in the ass. She smiled to herself. Yes, today was Elian's lucky day.

But not for several hours. She stood up, took one last sad look down the road where Denny had driven off, sighed a small sigh, and went inside. She needed a shower and a little more sleep before she could get a grip on things. She'd manage. Without her soul bro there, or that future someone to truly love, it would stop at just that. A dreary everyday bore, interrupted by the occasional carnal distraction.

Oh well, she'd just have to make those frequent enough then. Pondering whether or not to call Elian up directly after she shower, she stepped into the bathroom, once again out of her clothes, and turned on the shower. While the steam flowed out from behind the plastic curtain, she stared into her big green eyes in the bathroom mirror.

"Who the hell are you now, Mel?" she murmured, "Does your momma know that her son turned his daughter into an even bigger slut than she already was?"

There was no answer, just her tired face looking back. Her make-up was everywhere, and there were hints of black rings under her eyes. No, she had to sleep. Elian could wait.

Days and weeks and months rolled by, and small town life rolled on as if nothing significant had happened. To everyone but a young woman with green eyes, it really hadn't. It was just another dreary year of same-old with all its complete lack of ups and downs. At least that's how it looked to her. She realized that thousands of different stories took place behind closed doors of people's private spheres, the same way that nobody could guess what went on in her life, but it didn't feel as real as the vacuum in her chest. She went to work, she hung out with her circle of friends, or with her parents. She had taken over the rent lease of Denny's downtown apartment, which meant that she didn't need to sneak around as much with her little private army of lovers.

Shortly after her brother's departure, she had decided to come clean and tell all the guys in her phonebook exactly what they meant, or rather didn't mean, to her. It had been convenient to keep new flirts in the dark about that she was already getting it good from several others, but she found if quite difficult to keep track of the white lies. So she met or called them up one by one with the same story, a blunt confession about how big a nympho she was and that, for the record, he was not the only guy to have access to a piece of her ass. Not by long shot.

Some guys lost their marbles and broke up with her, despite the fact that there was nothing to break up. Others assured her that they had no problem at all with the situation. Then they never called. Two or three were instead so enthusiastic about her open sexuality that they mistook it for a green light to indulge in private perversions that she had no interest in. Despite her appetites, she was fairly traditional. She liked bodies against hers, hands on her skin and male cocks going in and out of her.

So when one guy asked if she would do his virgin little brother, she accepted out of mere curiosity. He was pretty hot, but had been too shy for girls in High School. She found his blue-eyed appreciation and nervous fumbling quite endearing, and she patiently guided him through the basics of boy-in-girl action. But she was spoiled with men who knew what they were doing, so she was nowhere near satisfaction of her own. She faked a few orgasms to boost his confidence, but decided that that kind of charity was nothing for her. If she wanted adoration, she'd get a puppy.

Other episodes were more annoyingly unpleasant. One guy by the name of Ramon kept trying to get her exclusively, and finally got angry when she refused. Melissa suspected that he had more feelings for her than he would admit, and one drunken night, this was confirmed by him making an ass out of himself in the streets outside her window, pouring out his undying love. Not really knowing what to do, she let him in and tried to shut him up with her pussy. But all that happened was that he curled himself into a little ball on the living room floor and begged her to role-play as his mommy, spank him and feed him her tits. Only the last part of that had any kind of appeal to Melissa, so she kindly poured whisky into the rambling man until he fell asleep. The next morning she tossed him out and told him not to call her. Realizing that his behavior the previous night had burned all possible bridges, he didn't try.

Brett, a bit of a prick but with great skills in bed, decided to test her boundaries without even giving her a warning. She was laying on her back, waiting for him to enter her, when she felt a stream of his warm, smelly piss land on her stomach. She didn't say anything, just promptly pulled back a leg and stomped him squarely in the nuts.

"Get dressed and get out, sicko," was all she said.

She left him whimpering on her bed and went to take a shower.

These episodes, and pretty much everything else that went on in her life, she shared with Denny. Her job had been her saving grace there. It wasn't posh and not well paid, but enough for her to eat, live on her own and pay the phone bill as well as a decent DSL connection to the internet. One of her bed-fellows was a bit of a computer whiz, and put together a fully functional PC from just spare junk he had lying around. She thanked him with a kiss and a blowjob. It was a little bit like prostitution, she pondered, but not really. It wasn't like she would have denied him that anyway. So now she phoned Denny every day, and with the yellow dot on her screen telling her that he was at home and online on Yahoo, it was almost as if he was there with her. A little silly late night banter with him over IM could take the edge off a bad day.

It was on such a night that Denny once again changed the course of her existence. It was the end of April, and the spring was rushed forward into an unexpected wave of summer heat. The day in the grocery store had been hell. The sudden temperature peak had kicked the fridges and air conditioning into full gear—for a short while, before it blew the circuit board to ashes. With growing heat and growing panic, she had watched the deep frozen food and ice-cream turn first soft, then lukewarm and the vegetables starting to attract flies. They also started to attract annoying, complaining customers who couldn't get their heads around the concept that none of this was Melissa's fault.

By the time the manager arrived with an electrician, it was late afternoon. The place was a sauna, and poor Melissa a soaked heap, sweaty from hauling down milk into the slightly cooler basement, on the verge of breakdown from complaints and stress, and just a distraction away from losing her breath. So when the boss started to scold her in his normal arrogant way about how she should have handled the situation, Melissa collapsed in a pile of sobs right in front of him. A little public display of what tear canals can produce can go a long way in scoring empathy points in the most insensitive of hearts, and the manager was no exception to that.

He didn't quite know what to do with her, so he murmured a meek, "There, there ..." and slipped a fifty-dollar bill into her hand as some sort of compensation for the troubles; then he sent her home early.

She had had plans for the night. First, coffee and chatter with one of her girlfriends, and later she'd call Elian and see if he wanted to come over for a good stuffing. Well, forget that. She was exhausted, sticky and smelled of decaying broccoli. All she wanted was to go home, take a soothing, cold shower and have a shameless threesome with Ben and Jerry in front of taped episodes of the Gilmore Girls. That was almost as good as sex, and much less demanding.

But first she turned on the computer and logged on to see if Denny was there. More than anything she wanted to have her brother there so she could whine about her crappy day. But no, he was not online yet. She sighed and left the computer on. It was shower time, and she needed to eat something. He'd probably come on later tonight. She promptly stripped out of her dense, moist clothes. Her panties were so soaked she had to peel them off, and not in a good way. She stepped into the shower and let a rain of cooling drops cover her skin.

Three hours later, Denny had still not logged on. She absently wondered where he was. He took his studies pretty seriously, and didn't indulge in the plentitude of parties and endless supply of beer kegs that some thought was the purpose of those years. He might have charmed the pants off some cute nineteen year old first year chick with his boyish smile and solid biceps, and be busy giving her what Melissa had had the pleasure of sampling. It happened now and then, and Denny was just as open in reporting what happened in that field as Melissa was.

Feeling fresher now, cleaned up, cooled down and well fed, she wasn't too bummed out about her day any more. She plopped herself down on the couch, attacked a large ice-cream cup with a king size spoon and turned on the TV. She still longed to hear that familiar "ping" that would tell her that her brother was trying to reach her, but it wasn't as if she was desperate.

Around midnight, she woke up. Somewhere in the middle of the excitement on the TV screen, her eyes had given up and she had simply folded to the side in the couch. The ice cream cup stood safely on the table in front of her, but she still held on to the spoon. Groggily, she stretched after the remote, and managed to turn the TV off. She shook away the cobwebs of sleep enough to get up, brush her teeth and pour herself into a proper bed instead. From the corner of her eye she noticed that the computer was on. She stumbled over to turn it off.

There was a whole set of little IM messages there from Dinky, Denny's cheesy online handle that he had used so long that he couldn't remember why he chose it. The first one dated three hours back and was a simple "Hello!" then one minute later "I said, hello!" Then there were variations on that theme for another five messages. The last one, time stamped to have been sent some 30 minutes ago said "Call me when you see this, any time. I've got news". It ended in a cute little dancing smiley, so she guessed it wasn't bad news then.

She threw herself on the phone, hammered in his number on the worn down buttons, apologized to an old lady for calling the wrong number in the middle of the night, carefully entered the right number, and was greeted with Denny's voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello?"

"Greetings, sir. My name is Melissa and I am calling from the national pestering-in-the-middle-of-the-night service. You have requested a phone call at, quote, any time, unquote, and we hope that this late hour suits those specifications."

"Hey, Mel."

"Hey, bro. Did I wake you up?"

"Not really, I've been trying to sleep, but I think I overdosed on caffeine earlier today, and it's not wearing off. Is everything ok over there? You didn't reply."

"Well, I did fall asleep. On the couch."

"Rough day?"

"The worst. Everything went to hell in a hand basket, no electricity, credit card links were down, two billion evil customers, and I was the only one there. I actually started crying in front of the boss when he showed up. That was really embarrassing."

"Poor baby. Are you feeling better now?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine," she said and she was, now that Denny was on the line, "But enough about that. You had news?"

"You bet. How do you feel about college?"