Reserves

It had been a long week of mandatory service. Hot, August heat on the back of his neck. Stuffed into military-issued stuff cotton and nylon. A break from behind the office desk, yes, to be barked at for hours.

Finally, behind the wheel of his own vehicle, he felt finished, depleted, utterly exhausted, but most of all, he felt... ravenous.

Yes, he could do with a hard drink or two or six. And certainly, could fill his stomach with a good hot meal. And definitely longed to strip himself out of this sweat-stained uniform and take a scolding shower.

But what he really wanted... well.

------

How many times had he caught himself staring into the dusty distance on his desert base, sitting around with tens of other tired, frustrated reservists, and found his mind wandering to the same place? The same... her. As soon as they all stepped on base for mandatory reserve duty, he watched as he and his peers transitioned from salesmen and lab researchers and tech developers into hungry animals - ravenous beasts. The food was shit, there was barely liquor to sneak, but what really got him in the gut, along with the other men in his platoon, was an incredibly base desire to be with women. To grab them, lay them down, and fuck their brains out. As if they were 18 again, in their original army units, horny as hell - but virgins in most cases, big talkers in all cases, not truly knowing pleasure but knowing how bad they wanted it.

But here they were, adult men in their late 20s and 30s - these husbands, fathers, boyfriends, fiancés - men with commercial professions now - back to their basest natures.

And, he thought, his head in his hands for so many of these feverish episodes, I'm somehow no exception.

There was one way he stood apart from the others; while the rest were too careless to hide their erections when the 20-year-old female officer sauntered by - her tacky, highlight-streaked hair swaying back and forth out from the top of a tight ponytail, her regulation uniform tight around her hips, as she chewed her gum a little too suggestively - he felt compelled to cover his. Later, while laying on the flat metal cot, he'd stare at the tentpole towering above him and let his mind wander... sure, for a second, there was the young officer sauntering by, but he'd look right past her, deep into the dusty darkness, past the barbed wire fence encompassing the base, down onto the highway, back toward Route 1...

Somewhere, in the civilian night, at some cafe, she was wearing skin tight black yoga pants and a loose, cropped t-shirt, a notebook splayed open in front of her, U2 in her earphones while she chewed on a pen cap, staring into the same space between them. At some point, she'd give in to the late night and the closing cafe, and she'd squeeze out of the booth, and he imagined that she'd walk over to pay her bill while anyone else there would no doubt notice how the tight fabric of her leggings exposed her swaying hips, her round ass, her toned legs. He imagined she'd collect her things and walk back to her car, drive back to her apartment, get into bed, and maybe - just maybe - she was staring up at her ceiling, thinking about him too.

But truthfully, imagining her legs was more than enough; he felt himself go hard the second his mind wandered past the tent pole, destination in sight. He was on the base, after all, and on the base, he was an animal - hungry. Ravenous.

He'd fall asleep each night, tent pole facing tent pole, imagining those legs, wrapped in those pants, wrapped around him. Swaying hips, grinding hips, some music in the background. He was man enough to know that out here, this week of reserve duty, he wasn't decent enough to imagine having her anywhere else but this dirty, crass army base. Dusty all around them, he'd fuck her right here on this horrible, squeaky metal cot - if it meant he could do it right now, seconds before finally falling asleep for another listless night.

------

Now, finally driving down Route 1 towards home, he was itching to get out of his uniform, have a hot shower, and become... less beast and more man again. He also knew it would take more than the drive home to make the transition - he needed food, drink, sleep...

As he contemplated his options for fulfilling the former, he found himself turning off the highway. Confused, he realized it was too late to turn back and he'd have to continue the slightly longer way home. Wtf I'm so tired... he thought, frustrated. His beast brain was still dominating him, and as he drove past the next few towns he found himself getting aggressively aroused. Shifting in the driver's seat, he realized he was just a couple towns over from hers.

There was hunger, there was thirst - and then there was something completely, overwhelmingly, ravenous to his mood. After a few more kilometers of letting his erection take the wheel, he turned right, into the next town - where he knew deep down he had meant to go all along.

------

She was pouring herself a second glass of wine before changing from her work clothes into her play uniform: black yoga leggings; loose, cropped t-shirt. No one was around tonight, the cafe was already closed, so she figured she'd just have some fun on her own; it was sometimes better that way, letting her imagination guide her into the late night.

Her fiancé was out again, at some work thing, and told her he'd be staying at his place. She had rolled her eyes when she saw the text but let it go. Sometimes distance was a good thing... right?

She tossed her work clothes on the floor, took a quick peek in the mirror at her black lace bra firmly cupping her breasts. Maybe I should just stay like this, no one's home anyway... but, nah, she figured. Better cozy than sexy for wine glass #2 and maybe even a book.

She settled onto the couch and absently flipped through pages. She was tired of her fiancé's excuses. His work was everything and it was such meaningless work... to her, anyway. Making rich people richer, hoping for that payout... She was terribly over the whole tech scene, which is where they had met, five years ago at a startup mixer. After all these years, she had never even told him this - but that night, she hadn't even wanted to go. Her friend, a coworker at the time, had asked her to come with him as a favor. She remembered him, leaning against the counter of the office kitchen, wearing a light blue t-shirt, his eyes darting around her as she looked up at him. Their casual conversations were usually limited to joking around and gentle teasing, so the fact he was kind of... nervous... was adorable - and admittedly, a little intoxicating - to her. She remembered thinking, wow, he asked me right here, he didn't just text. She had tossed out a casual, "sure," but inwardly felt a bit confused at how quickly she was willing to go to a terrible tech event because he had asked her to.

Soon after, they had both left their jobs at that company. A year later, they started meeting up for coffee and chatting nearly every day, shaping into closer friends. Laughing at the same stupid jokes, debating the endings of their favorite books. Swapping advice, they kept each other grounded in their relationships, while keeping each other sane at their new jobs.

She snapped out of her thought; right, he was on reserve duty at this moment, which is why they hadn't met up or spoken since he told her he was leaving, a week earlier. The thought of it made her shift in her seat and instinctively finger the black satiny strap on her shoulder.

Why do I end up here a lot? she wondered. When he had texted her that he was on his way to reserves, she couldn't help it - a snapshot vision of him in an army uniform played out in front of her. Her sweet, fun friend dressed in rugged army green. It made her feel... something to imagine him that way.

As she took the last sips from the glass, she jumped as she heard a loud knock at the door. Startled, she tiptoed towards the door - it's 11pm, who would be here now?

Through the peephole, she saw a blur of green - someone uniformed - and gasped. The end of her street was a training exercise zone and sometimes soldiers congregated here outside on her street, but they never... came upstairs.

She opened the door. "Can I help- oh!" She jolted slightly back as she took in the sight of him. He was towering over her, uniformed, exhausted, and - something else.

She looked him up and down, from his hard-toed boots up his slightly parted legs, his uniform shirt mostly unbuttoned, revealing a tight olive-colored t-shirt underneath, accentuating his chest. He was unshaven, and his eyes... well, she felt they were devouring her.

"Is..." she barely managed to get the words out... "everything ok?"

------

He found himself speechless as she opened the door; for one, he couldn't believe he was here, after this long week of imagining what he could do to her. Second, he had never really imposed - asserted? - himself on her before. Back when they worked together, they had been casual workmates, not overlapping much. Now, after years of trading their time, they were good friends, texting most of the day, meeting up for coffee once in a while, and yes, even an occasional drink or two or three, and there was tension - oh, he knew there was, and he knew she knew it - but they each had their own lives.

And now, he was standing over her, dusty, dirty, unshaven, in beast mode. And nothing - no distance, no tent poles, no barbed wire - was standing between what he wanted and what he was about to have. He felt the blood rushing throughout his body, swarming his groin, heating him from the inside. Suddenly his pants felt restrictive in a way that even a week of uniform-wearing hadn't managed.

"Hi," he said, and leaned against the doorway. He looked beyond her and saw half a bottle of wine and a red-stained glass.

"I'm coming in."

------

As he stepped past her, through her doorway, she could smell the week of reserves on him - the sweat, the dust, but also him. She knew well what that was like after the rare nights she had a little too much to drink at their meetups and had ended up tucked under his arm as he walked her to her car.

She continued to look him up and down as he strode past her. Still in uniform, right off the base - not that she was complaining, but - what was it that he had come for?

"Want something to eat?" She asked as she closed the door, knowing him well enough to know he was hungry. Starving, even. "I could -"

"Oh, I'm hungry," he said, as he poured himself a deep glass of the wine. "But honestly, I'm something else too."

There was something different about his voice... No small talk, no teasing. She suddenly felt... exposed in a way... by that deep, direct tone he was taking.

"I see," she answered, taking another look as he swallowed the drink. His broad shoulders, the green uniform unbuttoned to reveal his chest - she imagined him pulling the buttons open as he got into his car in the fresh night air... He was tall and broad, but the uniform was a whole other level. She suddenly realized she had been carelessly staring, and he knew it.

She caught her breath. "I'm going to - be right back - take whatever you want - um, from the kitchen."

------

He watched her turn her back to him and disappear into her bedroom. Setting the glass down, he followed her, and opened the door.

"Oh, I, uh, need a minute -" she stammered, but for a split second longer, he just continued watching her, intently, until she looked away. She was breathing quickly - he could see the heaving up and down of her breasts.

He took a few steps towards her, until he could hear her breathlessness up close. He gently pulled the loose strands of hair from her face, and lifted it towards his, staring into her eyes; he could see behind her hazel pupils that she was melting.

"No you don't," he replied. In one move, he lifted her in his arms and carried her out of the bedroom.

"What... what are you doing?" She barely whispered.

He brought her into the kitchen, and a little too roughly, set her down on the counter.

"You said take whatever I want... from the kitchen." Eye-level now, he continued watching her face register what he had said, while laying his hands on either of her thighs. Oh god I've been waiting for this he thought, as he felt himself get harder under the thick uniform pants.

With his hands, he parted her legs slightly and watched as she again became breathless.

"So," he continued, "I'm taking it."

He leaned in and kissed her, hard, on her mouth. Finally, he felt his body and brain releasing what was pent up for the last seven days - permission, perhaps, to be a beast. As he kissed her, she kissed back, and with every hungry movement of their lips, he grabbed tighter on to her thighs, digging his fingers in deeper, as if disbelieving he was actually holding this part of her. She winced, and he moved his hands higher up until he was holding her hips; the only thing separating his fingers from those hips he had pictured on that stupid metal cot, were the black leggings he had used to get himself going, laying in that army issue bed each night.

"I need you - now," he said, and bit her lip slightly. "And there's no stopping me."

------

She was dizzy with dual feelings - anticipation? Tension? He had knocked the wind out of her. Who was this version of him, grabbing her like a wild beast devouring prey? She felt engulfed by this... animalistic version of him. She also felt herself gushing in her underwear - warm, wet - she couldn't help it, he had turned on something in her, as easily as flipping the kitchen faucet.

She felt him loosen his grip on her hips and slide both of his big, rough hands up her shirt; one up her soft back, the other delicately traveling up her stomach, settling on her left breast. He took it in his palm, and squeezed.

"This," he murmured, "I need this."

Then, before she had caught her breath, she felt his hand travel down... and slid into the front of her pants, continuing into her panties; she jumped slightly at that, but he kept going, feeling the warmth radiating down her crotch until he seemingly found what he was looking for. She felt his fingers swimming in her wetness, brushing against her, making her whole body shiver.

"Yes," he whispered. "You need me too."

------

After feeling her wet, wanting pussy, his ravenous appetite grew larger; he sensed hers did too, because immediately afterward she had wrapped her legs around his waist and with a hungry desperation was pressing her lips onto his.

He grabbed her ass from the counter, tightening his palms around the roundness he had watched sway in front of him so often, previously restrained about reaching out and taking it. He picked her up while she straddled him, and shifted them both over to the bare wall beside the counter; leaning her back against it, he pressed himself into her. His dick was hard as a rock and bursting beneath the uniform; he could tell she felt his bulge between her legs, stimulating her as she moaned slightly. He pressed again - once, twice, and then pulled back. He was so incredibly horny, hungry to devour her right here against this wall, but also felt a surge of bestial power overtake him; he wanted to make her beg for it, he wanted her on all fours, he wanted to fuck her to the loud squeak of the metal bed frame that had housed his torture over the last seven nights. He wanted her to be as dirty as he was.

And he didn't want her to have a choice about it.

He released her ass from his grip and she slid down from him. He put his hands against the wall, trapping her between it and his body, looking down at her.

She started to speak - "what are we doing? I -" but he let out a soft shhhh and took his arms off the wall. He backed away and gestured to her to follow him. Helpless, she did. He stopped when he got to her living room, and pointed down to the rug. "Come here."

------

She watched him call her over, and swallowed hard. Who was this guy? She felt compelled to listen to his instruction. Her underwear was hopeless now; her nipples were hard under the lace of her bra. She started toward the rug.

When she stood in front of him, he lowered himself down before her, balancing himself in a squat. He began peeling her pants from her legs, revealing her soft thighs, marked with his earlier grasp in the faintest pink. He tossed the leggings to the side. She stood in front of him, bare, her soaked panties in line with his gaze. She reached her hand to feel his hair, which was overgrown and a bit messy; it complemented his unshaven face.

Without warning, he leaned in and grabbed the side of her panties in his teeth, and tugged. She found herself panting then; the heat from his mouth matched the heat she felt between her legs. "Oh!" She found herself crying out.

Still holding her underwear in his teeth, he pulled them down her legs; they slid easily, revealing her - dark tangle of hair, surrounded by soft skin. Feeling the cool night air between her legs, she suddenly felt compelled to cover herself; she tried but he quickly took her wrists in his hands and pulled them behind her back.

"Nuh uh... this is mine..." While he kept her arms pinned behind her, he leaned in and licked her, right above the hair, his tongue streaking a straight line up past her belly button, reaching higher. He ran his tongue over the thin, barely-there lace of the bra; she felt it wet, warm against her nipple and moaned slightly.

------

Now he was aching; he released her arms and she softly collapsed on weak knees on the floor in front of him.

"Please..." she begged. "Please..."

"Please what?" On his knees, he still towered over her, and he moved in closer.

"I - I don't know - this..."

"...feels wrong?" He grinned at her. "Feels right?" He watched her look down at the bulge in his pants.

"Feels..." He took her hand and placed it on his hard dick, the thick uniform fabric between their skin.

"...so hard," she whimpered.

"Get on all fours," he commanded her. Her eyes widened but she did as she was told. Splayed like that, he knew it was only a matter of time, though the thought of her easily submitting to his instruction made him want to draw this out forever. Finally.

He came up behind her and grabbed her ass. Placing one hand on her lower back, he used the other to feel her wetness from this angle; he felt her parted lips in his fingers. His erection was starting to hurt.

"God, I just want to take you," he murmured, low and under his breath. "I just want to fuck you till you scream." His hands on her hips, he positioned himself over her, and thrust himself against her, grinding his impossibly hard dick, bulging under his pants, against her soft labia and clit. She panted, harder, harder, and he felt her quickening against him, and pulled back.

He leaned back and stood up. She turned around, her face asking the question.

"Going to shower," he replied, leaving her there, her mouth, and legs, open in shock.

------

She heard the water turn on from the other room and wondered what she was meant to do next. He hadn't left any instruction, only left her there, splayed, wet, and hot. Her head was dizzy with confusion - somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered she had a fiancé, and he was out; even further back, she realized she had wanted this for a long, long time. Well, was it this? This... tired, hungry, dirty soldier pushing himself on to her until she submitted? Or was it him, dressed as a dirty ravenous soldier, taking what he apparently also had wanted for a long, long time?

She turned to her side and pushed herself up off the floor. Even with a bra and t-shirt on, she felt extremely naked. This had all been so... animalistic...

And again, she wasn't sure where he planned to take it.