My Mind Storm, not Desert Storm

I want to thank Mobydick2019 for proofreading and editing my story for me.

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I know you've heard it before many times but our marriage was wonderful, until the day it wasn't. I thought Lisa and I had the perfect marriage. At least for the past 21 years.

A little background, I had just got home from the big sandbox in 1999 and had decided to stay with my parents and go back to college and finish up my degree. When I started college right out of high school, I joined the Marine Reserves on campus figuring a few weekends and six weeks in summer would give me my military requirement but just after I finished my freshman year, I was called up.

Somehow, I ended up being a sniper. Well, I really knew how to shoot because my father had worked with me a lot, showing me how to make long-distance shots, hoping I would join him in his Northwoods hunts. I just couldn't see killing a harmless animal but I did like blasting targets, no matter how far away dad placed them. Anyway, after basic and A.I.T. I was sent to Camp Baharia in Fallujah. Our C.O. was Lieutenant Derrick Becker and he had already been there for a couple of years as had most of the team. I was the new kid on the block and their new sharpshooter. I took a lot of ribbing until the second recon when the L.T. told me to take out a raghead standing by a fire in front of a large cave, giving instructions to about a dozen heavily armed warriors.

"Kid, make it count, then keep taking the bastards out while you can," he whispered to me. "Blake and Cooper are within range and will be firing as soon as he drops, got it?" I checked my rangefinder and it was just shy of 1300 meters, I checked the smoke from the fire and it was moving slightly east at half a klick. I set the scope for the windage and elevation and readied myself. I listened to my heartbeat and controlled my breathing. Haji was moving around and I had to wait until he was right over a younger man, trying to impress something on him as he had been doing over and over. Only this time when he did it, I squeezed the trigger and his head exploded, covering the young man with his brains and then Blake and Cooper began firing grenades, then blasting away like crazy with their M-16s.

The L.T. was firing and I began picking targets and nailing them. When it was all said and done, the 7 of us had taken out 22 bad guys and found a large cache of weapons and explosives. We pulled the bodies into the cave, piling them on top of the explosives and set the timer on a satchel charge, and made a beeline out of there. As we exited the cave, we were pinned down by someone shooting at us from the hillside where we had just come from. I was trying to get a fix on the flash and all of us were firing where we thought the sniper was. All the time we were scared shitless that that big cache of ammo and explosives might take us out when it blew.

Then the L.T. said, "I see him. Cover me!" and took off running like a madman, screaming and cursing as he ran between the scrub brush and rocks. Did I mention that Becker was a giant of a man? I mean Hulk big. 6'10" tall, 245 lbs. 48" chest, 20" biceps, 32" waist, 42" inseam, and size 16 shoes. Apparently, Haji didn't know what was coming after him and got up and ran. I picked him off within the first 10 meters and we all ran like our lives depended on it, which they actually did. We had just made it around the hill when the blast went off and the falling rocks and debris pelting us caused more damage to us than we had incurred fighting, not to mention our ears ringing for days afterward.

Becker saved our butts more than once and we became very good friends. Five years later, I was hot tired, and really missing a shower or bath but I was so good at my job that I was enjoying my duty of taking out the enemy over a mile now. Lt. Becker had taken a seven-man patrol out deep into Iraqi back territory looking for a bomb-making and training facility that was supposedly deep in the mountains. It was rough going but Becker's jovial attitude kept us all in good spirits. As we passed a small herd of sheep, he said, "Look, it's a flock of Taliban hookers. Anybody wants a piece?" We all laughed. That laughing caused an old man to sit up and look at us. He then waived his RPG at us and smiled, then set it back down. Becker went over and talked with the guy for a good ten minutes.

When he came back, he said, "Guys, intel was wrong, the place we want, we passed about 5 klicks back. The old guy said to look for the broken tree with the tire in it and go east." We did and eventually found the place. Hell, there were hundreds of Taliban there. Becker took pictures and relayed the GPS position to command and he was told to get out of there. It took us 3 days to get back to the border.

We were running late and it was just getting daylight and we only had about a hundred meters to get to the base when Cooper, who was bringing up the rear, went face-first into the dirt, blood gushing out the back of his neck. We dove behind a dirt mound and Blake and Pauly ran to Cooper and pulled him to the mound with us, only it was too late for him. His face was gone. We were scouting to see if we could find the sniper.

I thought I saw a flash and set up on my haunches to get a fix on him and squeezed off a round just as I saw his next flash. The Lt. yelled as the sniper's rifle fell down the rocks so we figured that I had got him. Only when he looked over, I was on my back with a hole in my neck. Becker threw me over his shoulder and with his fingers blocking the blood, ran with me back to our pick-up point. The others brought Cooper's body; it was a somber night. The medics patched me up then I was flown to Germany then home. The bullet had nicked my neck bone and I had to wear a neck brace in the hospital for nearly two months before they finally cut me loose.

When the taxi pulled up in front of my home, I barely recognized it. My father had been a nut about keeping his lawn and flower garden a showpiece and now the grass was nearly a foot tall and the flowers were full of weeds. As I rang the bell, mom greeted me with a big hug and I asked where dad was.

Mom got a tear in her eye and said, "He's in the house Martin, two months ago your father had a heart attack and the paramedics had to use the defibrillator on him to revive him. They did emergency surgery on him and found blockages in his heart and near his lungs. The doctors took him off all salt, alcohol, and tobacco products. When he got home, he gave up. Now, he just sits in his chair and stares at the TV, waiting for me to bring him his food. All he does is yell at me when he wants something to eat or drink. He won't talk to me and often won't even sleep in the same bed with me, he sleeps in his recliner. I probably shouldn't be saying this but your father and I still had a reasonably active sex life before the incident. I mean we usually had our Saturday fun naps, if you get my drift. And occasionally one of us might start something mid-week and just before that, we were really starting to reconnect and go at it like newlyweds." She had a half-smile with a tear running down her cheek as I held her tight.

I went into the house and my father smiled and I asked how he was. He looked like he was going to say something but just as my mom walked into the room he went silent. Dad gave mom a sour look and she looked down and walked out of the room. We went to bed that night and I wondered what else had changed in my return to my hometown. I got up in the morning and as it was a nice day, I threw on some jeans, and my boots, deciding that I needed to tackle that lawn first. I went to the garage and filled up the mower, moving the wheels up to their highest notch. It fired up on the first pull and I began tackling the front yard first. I had done the parkway and along the driveway then the perimeter and was working my way inside when this stunning blond wearing a thin spaghetti strap crop top, silk running shorts, and ankle-high basketball shoes, stops in front of our house and stares at me.

For some reason, I shut off the mower to see what she wants but before I could ask, she says, "Martin? Martin Parker, is that really you?" Now I had no idea who this vision of loveliness was but I nodded. She ran across the lawn and threw herself at me, locking lips with me, her arms around my neck, and one leg around my ass, pulling our crotches together. Her tongue was deep in my mouth yet I didn't have the faintest idea who she was. She just kept kissing me over and over.

Mom, opened the front door and said, "Martin, Lisa, would you two like to take a break and have some fresh lemonade? I squeezed the lemons myself just a bit ago."

As we stepped up on the porch, mom said, "Martin, you remember Lisa Olsen, don't you? You two sure seemed to be hitting it off out there." She smiled and went back inside, leaving the pitcher of lemonade. Shit, I remembered Lisa as the scrawny tomboy with braces and thick glasses. She was always trying to hang around with us guys. She had no figure, well, it was a stick figure I guess you'd call it. She was thin as a rail with no boobs or any meat on her bones.

Now I kept looking at this angel, no I'd say, goddess. Shit, she had filled out to perfection. Her long blond hair in a ponytail, hanging down almost to her shorts, her perfect puffy nipples pushing out the thin material of her tank top adding to the effect of her 36 C's. I was guessing her waist as maybe 21 and her ass a measly 30 or 31, no butt. Lisa's light blue eyes sparkled off her rosy cheeks set my heart afire in seconds.

Lisa was 5 years younger than me at 19 and about to start her second year in college. "Where are you going to school?" I asked. "I need to sign up and finish my schooling. They called me up right after I finished my first year."

"I've just signed up at the new state college they opened last quarter on the other side of town", she said, "Maybe you should check it out? Want me to take you over there on Monday?" She had this impish smile like she was planning something.

I reached over and patted her firm thigh and said, "Sure, I'd like that, especially getting to spend more time with you."

Lisa stood up and stepped off the porch and said, "Martin, maybe you should step up your mowing so you can take me out tonight. I think you and I could have some fun, that is if you still country dance?"

I couldn't believe my luck and said, "What time shall I pick you up?" as I watched her cute ass walking across the tall grass.

She turned, giving me a million-dollar smile and said, "That depends, are you going to buy me dinner, then it's 7:00 if not, about 8:30."

"I'll see you at 7:00 then," I said as I yanked the starter rope on the mower only this time I went at the grass with a vengeance. In less than two hours I had cut both the front and back lawns then went I went out to the shed behind the garage to check on my old Chevelle that my uncle had given me when I had started high school. Dad and I had rebuilt it from the ground up. It was a 68 SS-396 4 speed that uncle Jack said he needed to get rid of because he kept getting too many tickets in it. Dad and I rebuilt the engine and transmission, then almost everything bumper to bumper. Mom even bought an upholstery machine and worked and reworked the interior. It really was a family project.

One day I came home from school and dad was just pulling out my motor and I asked him what he was doing. He had this silly grin and said, "Martin, go look in the back of my truck." I walked out there and sitting in the bed of his truck was a brand-new Corvette 454 with 3 -- two-barrel carburetors, aluminum heads, and a new set of headers. I couldn't believe it and ran back into the shed and asked him where he got the motor. He smiled and said, "Martin, a few months ago, I bought $50 worth of chances on this motor setup that was shown in one of the Hot Rod magazines in our lunchroom. Don't ask me why, I just hoped that I might win it so we could put it in your car to make the others sit up and take notice of you."

I jumped in and by the next evening, we had it up and running and my dad was burning the tires through the first three gears then he took me to his work parking lot and let me drive it. Holy shit, I had driven the 396 there but this thing was a monster. But I digress, thankfully my dad had kept the tires full of nitrogen and had a somewhat charged battery waiting for me. I put the tires back on and checked the fluids after installing the battery and giving her some fresh gas, my yellow Chevelle SS-454 with the black vinyl top roared to life. Granted it still said it was an SS-396 but that made it more fun when some guy wanted to race. I took it around the block, then down to Pep Boys for an oil change and a new battery and got some fresh premium then headed for the carwash. I made a mad dash home to get ready for my date with Lisa.

I was pulling on my boots when I heard a knock on my door then it opened and my father walked in. He softly shut the door then slowly made his way over to the edge of the bed and sat down, looked at me, and said, "Martin, I can see you are bothered by the way things seem to be between your mother and I but son, I don't know if she told you what really happened?"

I shook my head no so he continued, "Well a little over nine months ago, your mother began volunteering more and more time down at the community center. When she did, she also began dressing a lot nicer, then sexier and sexier. I asked her about it and she said that most of the people on the large community crew were the upper crust and she felt she needed to be dressed like they were. I accepted it and didn't think much more about it. Then she seemed to be gone more and more to those damn meetings. She also became more sexually aggressive with me. I mean it was like she wanted to do all sorts of things that we had never done before and it made me wonder where she had learned them. She was sucking my cock and having me trying to do her doggy and all these different positions we've never done.

Martin, I was beginning to think she might be having an affair. Quite often if it was a late-night meeting, she'd have to shower before she came to bed. One morning, I checked the laundry hamper and found that on those nights, she was washing out her panties before putting them in there. I think she was getting rid of the cum stains but I couldn't prove it. Then one morning, right after breakfast, she crawled under the table and began giving me head, and when I was hard, she pulled me down on the kitchen floor and began riding me like a wild woman. I'll admit it was very good but we had been having sex at least twice a day later and she was orgasming so hard and loud that she didn't realize that I was having a heart attack, not an orgasm. I tried to get her attention but I couldn't speak and she just kept riding me harder and harder. The last thing I remember was her screaming in orgasm and the next was waking up in the hospital with all these tubes in my arms and down my throat. She didn't care about me! She just wanted her own damn satisfaction. I really think she would have been happier if I had died."

I didn't know what to say. I looked at him and asked, "Dad, have you ever said this to mom?"

He scowled and said, "HELL NO! Besides, if she was cheating on me, she'd never admit it, now, would she?" I could see tears forming in his eyes. I sat next to him and tried to put my arm around him but he didn't feel it was right for men to show affection to one another and stood and walked out of my room. I tried to put what he said out of my mind and was going to have a talk with my mother soon.

I was wearing a short-sleeved western shirt, Wranglers, my cowboy boots, with my dad's old Stetson in the back seat when I pulled up in front of Lisa's house. She rushed out and immediately squealed saying, "God, Martin, I didn't think you still had your baby. Damn, she's pretty!"

"Not nearly as pretty as you," I said to her. She was wearing a long-sleeved lady's western shirt with the sleeves rolled up and tied at her navel instead of having it fastened and it was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra, just like this afternoon. She was wearing a pair of pink cut-off Levi's, that was cut to the pockets, showing off nearly half of her butt cheeks, carrying a pink cowgirl hat with sequins, and western boots with 4" pointy heels. Not what I'd really call cowboy boots but sexy as hell. She definitely got my attention. Nearly swallowing my tongue, I asked, "So Lisa, where am I taking you?"

She hopped into my car and scooted over next to the driver's seat. I was sure glad my Chevelle didn't have a console. I started the car up and again asked, "Where to my lovely princess?"

She smiled and said, "Sam's Dry Gulch Roadhouse." She could see my confused look and said, "Just head out Highway 14 until you see the sign and turn right. You can't miss it. Well, I guess you could because it actually sets nearly a half-mile off the highway."

As we headed out, I shifted through the gears and Lisa had her hand on top of mine on the shifter. As I got on the highway and shifted into fourth, she pulled my hand down into her lap, so my hand was resting so close to her crotch I was having trouble concentrating. Lisa didn't seem to be the least bit bothered by my hand being nearly on top of her pussy so I left it there as we drove on, listening to some Charlie Daniels and Willie Nelson. Sam's was a fun place where we started with these king-sized burgers and beers. I was worried because I knew Lisa wasn't 21 but she said everyone there knew her and she had a fake I.D. she used so it was OK. We danced nearly every dance and I was happy that I hadn't forgotten how to line dance, two steps, and swing, and we closed it down at 1:30.

We were nearly home when Lisa told me to take a right turn up this run-down road. It was between two old walnut groves then turned to the left and started uphill. It got to the top and it was a magnificent view of the city. Lisa got out and was twirling around with her arms out, saying how beautiful it was up there. She then flew into my arms and threw one hell of a lip-lock on me as she tore off her shirt and unfastened her cut-offs, letting them fall between her legs, kicking them off of her boots. She wasn't wearing panties and was shaved smooth. She began to unzip my pants then undo my belt. Breaking her kiss she said, "Come on silly, get undressed. I want you to make love to me. I've been dreaming of this for so many years you can't believe it, hell I can't believe it."

I was fumbling with my shirt and Lisa already had my boots, jeans, and underwear off so she grabbed my shirt and damn near tore it off of me. She then pulled me to the front of my car and laid down on the hood, placing her feet on the bumper and said, "Martin, don't disappoint me," as she grabbed my hardened shaft and guided it into her silky wetness. As my shaft invaded her silky wetness, she said, "Take it easy on me, you're a big boy and I've never been with anybody. Give me a little time to get used to that big thing of yours." I only took short strokes, barely inching in a little at a time until I was balls deep and Lisa was clawing my back, arching herself up to meet me.

Oh God, was she ever tight and hot. I hadn't had any sex since the beginning of my freshman year and then I was so drunk I don't remember half of what went on. Lisa put her feet into the small of her back and was moaning as we kissed. She broke our kiss long enough for her to scream that she was cumming. I picked up the pace and gave her a few more strokes and she did it again only now her pussy was squeezing my cock and I felt an orgasm building. I was going to ask her if she was on the pill or if I should pull out but before I could, I exploded, filling her pussy with spurt after spurt of my cum. Lisa was digging her nails into my sides with every spurt of my cock and squealing in delight.