Revenge of the Pothead Ch. 03-04

Chapter 3

The next few weeks were the proverbial blur, one could say. There was Militia training, initiation into the officer corps, and orientation as a field nurse. Compared to being a civilian RN, this was something quite different. I was busy, which I really liked, but I didn't have time for any kind of personal life.

Nor did the reality of the battlefield change this for me. I was harried, hustling from one wounded soldier to another. The number of combatants greatly outweighed the noncombatant personnel, which was not surprising. This was a civil war, after all. The furious and desperate zeal of the Robertsonites made it far worse than it might have been. I could see exactly why the Militia needed me so much. I killed no one myself, but there were times when I feared that I might have no alternative soon.

The weeks continued to fade into the next weeks, with the casualty lists growing longer by the second. Unfortunately for the Coalition, there were far more Militia to spare than "warriors of God". The zealots died hard, but no one took their places in the trenches. Position after position, bunker after bunker, and barricade after barricade, our side gained more territory.

The Coalition made its last-ditch stand at City Hall in Virginia Beach. Their ammo dumps gone, their bullets down to those in the magazines of their own small arms, and their quartermaster already a POW, Robertson's troops held out for a miracle for another fortnight. Snipers, while amateurs by Republican Front standards, killed off dozens of cocky young Militiamen, but it did them no good.

They fought stubbornly on the last day with revolvers and Molotov cocktails, but Robertson and his fanatics were aware of their imminent defeat. They simply had no reason to surrender. Life after defeat was too galling for them, especially the old televangelist himself. He knew that he would get shot either way, so he fired every round in his chamber. I was so close to the front lines at this point that I saw a barrage of .223 bullets rip open his neck and torso, killing the public enemy at last.

My last sight of the short, bitter conflict between the Republican Front and the Christian Coalition was the public cremation of the enemy dead in a city that had gone from resort to war zone. The civilians were largely in hiding at first, though they began to reveal themselves after a few hours.

In weeks, I was back in Kanawha County, now living in the Bachelor Officers' Quarters at the local Militia base. There were no parades for us, because everyone knew that the fighting was hardly over in most of the country or the world. This was just one more campaign to recover territory from counterrevolutionary scum. There were to be more wars to fight soon, and I would just have to wait for the final homecoming a while longer.

Even so, on my first 48 hours of liberty, I ran into a familiar face at the nearest diner. She was very thrilled to see me alive. Summer had a grin as wide as a lottery winner's back in the old days. She seemed to believe that she had won the jackpot, at least sexually speaking.

"Hey, sir, what would you like to eat?" she asked me, taking unusual pleasure in her service to this particular patron.

"Well, I hoped for a nice clam dinner, but I'll settle for the best food in West Virginia," I teased her with a rather deviant gripe.

"Oh, I wouldn't give up hope for that, just as I haven't quit salivating over the prospect of a unique kind of sausage. But short of that, I recommend the chicken-fried steak. It's an artery-clogging dream come true. The potatoes are hand-cut, by the way. I'll let you guess whose fingers held the knife that peeled them," Summer winked to reassure me that she wanted to start our fling once again.

"Wow, she cooks, too! You really are a hillbilly's ideal woman, and I mean that as a compliment. I might well have to make an honest woman out of you, as the old-fogies used to say. Still live where you did before?" I probed with horny anticipation.

"Yep. There's always room for a certain lieutenant, if the Militia will let him live off-base. At the very least, he can come to visit me whenever his superiors allow it," the blonde made it evident.

I had only slept with one other woman since getting out of prison, and that was another nurse in a heated quickie during a very short lull in the hostilities. There was no real sleep, and we both knew that there was no chance of a future. She was married, but she hadn't seen her husband since his desertion. I had the impression that she fucked me to scratch her itch and retaliate for her hubby's cowardice. I just had the former reason, of course.

That being true, I had no objection to again seeing this naturally blonde, All-American diner waitress with her playful blue eyes and lustful smile. Her admitted preference for male authority figures made it that much easier for me. I didn't know how long we might last, but even a short-lived relationship would be nice for me, after my long romantic drought. Then again, marriage to her sounded even better, if she would have me.

"Well, we could always just get hitched, if you would prefer," I replied, half in jest.

"Hey, I haven't had any better offers," Summer remarked with a sigh of pleasure at the idea.

"A babe like you?" I expressed my doubts about that comment.

"I didn't say no offers, mind you. I just haven't had any better than yours," she pointed out.

"Now, that is more credible. So, what do you think about it?" I rather informally popped the question.

"What happens if we don't last?"

"We become roommates who share a last name and use each other as a booty call. Doesn't sound too bad, does it?" I grinned at the idea of that worst-case scenario and the logic involved in my proposal.

"Oh, what the hell? I get a hunk for a roommate who can help me pay the rent. And I get to sleep with him into the bargain. What are the drawbacks, again?" Summer laughed.

"You're actually considering it, then?" I reacted with pleasant surprise.

"Why not? This way, you get out of the Bachelor Officers' Quarters and I get to see my brother put on a tuxedo for the first time in years. That image in itself sounds great. Besides, being married to a male nurse sounds useful, anyway. You're a fine catch for any girl, especially in these hard times. Sure, I'll marry you. But there are two conditions," the blonde told me with a smile.

"What are they?" I inquired, truly curious.

"You have to knock me up, for one thing. I want at least one baby," she stuck her tongue out at me while saying that part.

"Really? You want me to impregnate you?"

"Sure, why not? Even if we don't last, you being my roommate would give me the stability needed to raise a child. You would be a great dad, I think, and the kid would be none the wiser until he was grown up. Which leads to the second condition," she said.

"Which would be what?" I was truly mystified.

"No divorce. Period. Like you said, we stay together as roommates. Not to mention fuckbuddies. That's if we prove less than soul mates," Summer explained with an easy grin. She clearly enjoyed the idea of us together as a couple, romantic or otherwise.

"So, in between boyfriends and girlfriends, and such, we could screw each other silly," I teased her.

"Honey, I don't care if you have a dozen girlfriends. Any time you want my body, you can have it on a silver platter. Marriage, however, is a dicier matter. If I am going to share my house with a guy, he'd better have something to make it worth my while. Otherwise, it can be a very rough place to live in. You see, I can be practical in my own way. Not all blondes are dumb. I'd suggest shacking up first, but I doubt the Militia would let its officers leave the Quarters short of something official to prove their intent to play house with a gal. As soft as I am on most issues, I am tough as nails about picking a roommate or husband," she clarified, with a mix of naughtiness and candor.

"Well, you have a point about that," I shrugged, because she indeed had one.

"Of course, I do. Look, I'll be honest. This thing between us has a better than even chance of working out, but I'll live either way. On the other hand, I badly want to be a mother, since there is less time to find that kind of love than the romantic kind. Also, I want a guarantee of regular cock, one way or the other. If I have to marry for convenience to get those things, then I'll do it. Hence my terms. If you have any requirements, I'll listen and consider them as well," Summer added.

"So, no divorce. Well, I like that. Been there, done that. I am no fan of divorce. It's sometimes necessary, but it's ugly as hell. Suppose, however, one of us cheats. Do we automatically just revert to roommates and friends with benefits on an informal basis?" I wondered.

"Maybe for you, if you really get that jealous and upset. But I'll be frank again with you. I don't give a flip about the whole fidelity issue. We're both human. We both have urges and needs. If you find a nice piece of ass and want to get yourself some strange, I won't even bat an eye. Well, okay, I'll bat them at you to get my own turn.

"But as long as you do nothing to actually throw away the romantic side of our deal, I fail to see cause for any quarrel or change of status. The only things that I can think of that would end our love are the sort that would usually destroy a relationship: abuse, crime, or neglect. Well, and one more thing," she intimated with a rather intense and anticipatory look on her lovely face, clearly excited by the prospect of us getting together.

"Which would be?" I was uncertain of what this could be.

"A vasectomy. Sorry, but you get one before I conceive, and I walk out completely. Get one afterward, and we will definitely revert to purely sexual housemates. I won't cut you off, because I want permanent access to your cock and it would be wrong to deny you equal access to my pussy. But I'd be very disappointed in you, and it would certainly kill the romance. Also, since a vasectomy would deny me sex for a month and half, I would deprive you for exactly that period in retaliation. So, unless you wish the cold shoulder for 3 whole months, I don't recommend getting fixed," she warned me, albeit with her usual playfulness.

"Alright, that's fair. But I do have one condition of my own," I stated baldly, quite unperturbed by her threat, as I didn't care for the idea of the Big V, either.

"What is it? A threesome, perhaps? Consider it done. A gang-bang or an amateur porn film, even, and I wouldn't flinch. Your superiors might, but I doubt it. They're not prudes these days, from what I hear. Hell, I'd screw my brother, if you asked me. Anything for get the daily use of your dick, no questions asked. As long as you bone me every day, share the rent and other expenses, and put a bun in my oven, I'll go along with the program. So, what's the requirement?" she dared me in the same low volume that we'd been instinctively using for this particular conversation.

"I get to be the boss in the bedroom. Period. We can do other things in other parts of the house, but the marriage bed is my domain. I like the idea that we explored before, of you submitting to my control," I asserted.

"It's a deal. Looks like you got yourself a missus. Mrs. Ralph Walker has a nice sound to it, after all. I take it that this will continue, even if we become strictly physical. That's only fair. I like bondage and such things, anyway. I'll enjoy being your personal sex slave. I won't even ask for a safe word. I trust you not to do any real harm. Well, this is quite a day. Not every patron offers me so much over a plate of down-home comfort food," she giggled.

"Yes, but they would if they got to know you better," I chuckled in reply.

So what had started as flirting to see if we stood a chance led to an understanding that we would marry and have a unique relationship that would give both of us what we really wanted in life. Others might have thought it odd, but Summer and I didn't mind so much. After all, it wasn't a perfect world, so a great relationship fit it better than an ideal one, and this one was far from mediocre as mercenary marriages went.

There were worse situations than getting laid for the rest of your life by a sweet blonde who cooked for the love of food and thought you were worth sharing with other gals. That was particularly true if she wanted to have your baby. The fact that she lacked most sexual inhibitions was a bonus indeed.

Those were my thoughts when she got off work and asked me to come home with her again that night. The sight of her tongue gliding across her lips in anticipation as she ogled my package didn't exactly cool me off, either.

Chapter 4

I had to pinch myself when Summer opened the front door for us and attacked me with her mouth as soon as the door slammed shut behind us. She didn't waste time at all, especially with the kissing part. After such a serious dry spell as I had, it would take a long time to get back in the habit of taking sex with women for granted. I was even a bit rusty with kissing girls. Prison sex, what little there was of it, is not exactly known for its romantic side.

Summer nearly raped me after a few minutes of making out. She was clearly as sex-starved as I was, due to whatever daily issues or problems prevented it. Life in a post-apocalyptic world had more than its share of those. It wasn't necessarily our intention to save ourselves for each other, not knowing if we had a future, but except for that one comrade, I hadn't been with anyone else since I left for the front.

I fucked Summer hard from behind on a new loveseat that she had recently bought to replace the old one. She took her turn by riding me in the cowgirl position as well. Her mouth surrounded my dick between these sessions and I almost came down her throat a couple of times. We wore ourselves out that evening and finally collapsed from exhaustion before we could think of anything else.

We awoke at some goddamned early hour, well before dawn, because my full bladder wouldn't let me stay asleep. Apparently, Summer was one of those women who woke immediately when the man in her bed did. She followed me into the john and waited for me to wash my hands, at which point she grabbed me and kissed my mouth again. Her eagerness to tangle her tongue with mine was a novelty for a man whose ex-wife rationed out this softer aspect of physical affection.

"Damn, Summer! Was it something I said?" I teased her, while actually quite thrilled with her passion.

"No, it was EVERYTHING that you said. I'm yours now. Get used to it," Summer declared, before resuming her kisses, but this time between my thighs.

I was in very serious trouble here, and I absolutely loved it. The girl was smitten, and I just could tell the fact. Then again, I thought that I might easily for her as well. I briefly escaped to the shower, only to have the luscious blonde follow me into the hot water. Her wet skin felt soft and smooth against mine. She had utterly seduced me, body, heart, mind, and soul. It was time to stop pretending to myself. We were lovers in every sense of the word. I, Ralph Henry Walker, was in love with my friend's sister Summer.

We fucked a little in the shower, but then washed up without cumming and resumed our sexual congress in her bed. I took Summer in the missionary position this time, my mouth kissing hers as we quite frankly made love now. This part wasn't the rough sex of the night before, not that I minded either one. They both had their place, but this was something that hadn't really occurred during my marriage. My ex was a cold fish, an ice princess compared to Summer, who had all of the warmth that her name implied.

Summer and I lost track of time, of how long it took to cum, and of how many times each of us came. It wasn't just about physical pleasure now. It was about a new couple, madly engaged in the first rush of love. We were drained and asleep by dawn, our legs entangled and our bodies almost seamless in their fusion.

Awakened by the neighbor's rooster, Summer arose and I opened my eyes to see her lovely ass tantalize me as she headed to the kitchen. She appeared to have some agenda, but I couldn't discover it without rising. I just didn't know if she wanted me to do so.

Curious, I stood and walked toward the bedroom door, only to hear Summer's voice chide me.

"Ralph, I can't bring you breakfast in bed if you're OUT of bed, dear. I have a handsome soldier to please and I'm gonna do my damnedest to satisfy both of your appetites. Let me serve you, honey," Summer urged me, clearly wanting me to accept her winning ways. I decided quickly not to refuse her and returned to bed.

The sexy blonde took a little time, of course, but it was worth the wait when she brought a huge tray with two plates full of delicious breakfast food for us to devour. Summer was definitely my kind of woman, since I hated the idea of a gal eating like a bird while I feasted to my heart's content. Maybe I was strange that way, but I wanted my ladies to still enjoy their food. I never minded a hearty appetite and a little meat on a woman's bones. The average woman didn't resemble a Calvin Klein model and "heroin chic" frankly scared me. Pot was my scene, not smack. We potheads liked our food.

Speaking of that, Summer kind of startled me when she produced a couple of joints, a lighter, and a dime bag. Then again, now that it was legal, it was a lot easier and safer to find. We smoked a little weed together and dived into our delectable breakfast of pancakes, sausage links, and fried eggs over easy. The coffee went down rather well, too. It was a truly awesome morning, one of the sort that I could get used to with her.

Once we had stuffed ourselves and cleared away the breakfast tray, Summer made it clear that she wasn't finished with me by pushing me back down onto the bed and straddling my face. She rubbed her delightful pussy onto my mouth and leaned over to suck my cock in a sweet 69. I damn near shot my load into her throat and held myself back solely by force of will. I wanted to save my cum for something even better. On some level, I was eager to knock her up, because I had the firm idea of pounding her only sweet pussy with my hard cock (though I would normally enjoy anal). Until that point, I concentrated on eating her out until she was ready for me to stop.

After several minutes of nearly flooding Summer's mouth with my seed, she got the hint and switched places, riding me cowgirl style. She leaned over yet again, this time to taste herself on my lips. I was pretty sure that her theme for this morning was, "putting Ralph first", as she demonstrated a resolution to help me relax and have a damned good time. The cowgirl position, while normally too passive for me, had an advantage when the man was a tired field nurse on 48 hour leave from the Militia. That was even truer when said field nurse was stoned and his belly was full of nice, heavy breakfast food.

The other benefit of doing it "cowgirl" became apparent when Summer came hard while riding me. She was able to make sure that I hit her G-spot and she naturally loved that. When I heard her moans and sighs as she climaxed, I finally came inside her, which had the effect of making her go down on me again. She seemed eager to ensure that I had a second wind, which made it clear that she was one horny gal at the moment.

"Out to drain my balls, are you? Help yourself. I've had many worse mornings than this, but none better that I can recall," I encouraged the sultry blonde, caressing her hair as she sucked and licked my cock.

"Right now, I feel like using you for sex," she teased as she impaled herself yet again on my dick.

At the moment, being used for sex was hardly a problem. It had a far different meaning from a sexy woman whom I loved than from some inmate down on the cell-block at the federal penitentiary. Summer had her way with me that morning, but the only part of me that was sore afterward was my dick from such constant use. At least my ass was unmolested. When I came a second time, Summer pouted as she realized that I would need some time to give her more hard cock. However, she proved selfless enough to lie next to me while I regained circulation to the rest of my body.