The Marine Ch. 07

We fucked there on the floor in the living room, her legs spread wide as I just pounded her. "Oh god, just fuck me all night!" she cried.

That's what we did, only moving to the bedroom when we finally needed to sleep, as we fucked around her small apartment instead. We'd already broken in the couch more than once, and she'd been bent over the dining table and kitchen counter before.

Saturday was always spent out on the town. We'd find a little café or coffee shop for breakfast, a hot drink and breakfast, usually hoping for something like bacon and eggs, before she'd do a little shopping. I didn't mind following her about, as I'd be bored otherwise, and her shopping meant seeing her in a state of undress while she tried on different things. And if she was trying on lingerie, we may have kissed and cuddled, though never anything more.

Lunch would usually be a light bight at another café or pub before finding something else to do in the afternoon. Neither of us were big soccer fans, but the city did have two teams, and it was something to keep us entertained for a couple of hours. She knew more about the game than myself. If not that, we'd check a local listing to see if there was some sort of art or cultural exhibition or event taking place. We'd head back to her apartment after that to change before heading out for dinner and drinks. Sometimes, it would be simple, but I'd occasionally treat her to a proper slap up meal at a fine restaurant. Though we were still both young, neither of us were interested in going out clubbing, and if we'd eaten enough, we'd happily return to the apartment, sharing a bottle of something or other, watching a movie, happily reading, or doing something else that involved the slow removal of clothing.

We generally did the latter.

The last few months of the year before Christmas saw the occasional trip to Bristol, but as I adapted to my new role, I found myself and my troops sent on exercises across the UK and Europe, while I was sent beyond with other officers for further training. There was another trip to the United States lasting an entire month with my troop as we took part in a series of exercises and war games. As the Yanks were not involved in any major conflict, and the UK was involved in peacekeeping missions at most, it was a case of keeping us active and sharp in the event shit did hit the fan.

Sitting down alongside all the other officers with the battalion commander a month before Christmas, we were told we'd be shipped out for two exercise in the new year. First would be in January to Norway for further cold-weather training, in additional to personal training in regards to a particular specialisation. The second would be our departure for Northern Ireland.

"The Good Friday Agreement is in effect but our presence is still required due to ongoing paramilitary operations," he explained.

"What is the situation on the ground, sir?"

"Most groups are abiding by the agreement. They are handing in their weapons and working with the government. Of course, there are some who simply don't want peace. They will be who we are focusing on."

"Very well, sir."

"You'll be shipping out no later than a fortnight after your return from Norway. It will likely be a six-month deployment, depending on our success on the ground. If the situation improves within that time, I have been informed that we could be returned to base sooner rather than later. But no getting our hopes up."

At least I could head north to Manchester for Christmas, and no surprise that my grandparents insisted I stay with them during the few days I'd be up there. And, of course, Hannah would be staying the entire time, our grandparents more than accepting of our relationship. Grandad made sure he got a photo of us together in our dress uniforms, left with the feeling it was going to be a Christmas tradition until he was simply incapable of doing it.

It was great seeing all the family again. All my cousins were getting older. Matthew, Hannah's brother, was now a strapping 17-year-old, thinking of joining the service himself, though going regular army. I'd told him about the Royal Marines selection process and then training regime. I thought he'd be capable, but he admitted that going regular army would probably suit him better.

Emma was now 19, a rather pretty, tall and slim young woman now, blonde hair, brown eyes and the sort of dimples most people love. John was 16 and wasn't exactly flavour of the month with the family, proving rather troublesome. There was talk he'd be told at 18 he either joined the forces and simply left home. Finally, the youngest was Rebecca at only 13. She was a cute little thing, a younger version of her sister, and she definitely liked seeing her oldest cousin (in the UK) strutting around in his uniform. Think she nursed a little crush, which I didn't mind, and Hannah certainly teased me about it.

Christmas Eve, after we'd been fed until we were bursting, and Grandad insisted we share more than one whiskey, Hannah and I were lying back in bed after making love as quietly as we could, snuggling into my side, when she asked, "You think Emma would like to be in my position?"

"What?" I almost shouted, "Hannah, I've never even looked..."

"Of course you haven't. Your eyes have been on me the entire time. Let me tell you something, Nate. She's had eyes on you since the day you arrived."

"You're seriously not pulling my leg here?"

"No, I'm not. Though I'm mentioning it in the hope you won't..."

I lifted her chin so I could look into her eyes. "Hannah, it's quite obvious the only person I'm interested in and sleeping with is you." That earned one of those grins I loved to see appear. "Emma will just have to learn to live with her crush. Sounds harsh but, well, it was different when Amy was here. We had history, at the very least. Plus, you involved yourself plenty."

"She's your sister. Can't get much closer than that..." I felt her breath in my ear. "Unless it's your mummy."

I laughed out loud. "God, that again!"

"Sorry. I've been reading a bit of erotica myself lately. Finding the mother-son stories rather titillating."

"No interest in daddy-daughter?"

"God no! If I did that, I'd start thinking about my own father, even though I've never thought about him in that regard for a second. No, no, no. Love my father, definitely don't want his dick in me." She laughed. "Mother-son, brother-sister, and cousin fucking is enough for me. Can I admit something?"

"Sure."

"I masturbate thinking about you and your mother fucking."

"Really?"

"Your mother is... rather attractive, Nate. Then I think of you fucking her, and the idea makes me incredibly wet. I've seen you fuck your sister and that was one of the biggest things to turn me on in my life. Guess I'm just weird."

"I was the one fucking her, Hannah, so what am I?"

"Lucky."

I gave it some thought, turning on my side. "Ah, are you having thoughts about another man?"

"I think he's still a virgin. I'm thinking of helping. Not sure he's ever had a girlfriend. Would that... bother you?"

"Hell of a double standard if it did considering I spent time with my sister when she was here."

"He's obviously grown in the sense of getting taller and broader, but I've seen him around girls. He's incredibly shy. I'm thinking if we enjoy a little fun together, it'll help his confidence."

"Just remember, once you start, he might not want to stop. You might feel that too."

"I know, so I'm giving it serious consideration but will also proceed with caution. I might just set him up with a friend instead, but all those stories, Nate. The idea of being my brother's first is very exciting but it will also bring us closer too."

Running my hand down her body, under her panties, she was soaking wet. "Good thoughts, Hannah?"

"Far too many, Nate. I'm thinking I just shouldn't bother with panties most of the time." She kissed me in that manner, suggesting we needed to make love again. Rolling onto her back, I slid my cock inside her and she sighed happily. "That's better, my cousin's big cock back where it belongs. Christmas Day tomorrow. Want anal tomorrow night?"

I snorted. I couldn't help it. "That my Christmas present?"

"One of them, anyway. Christmas morning blowjob. Christmas lunch dessert is, I hope, your face on my pussy."

"I'm sure I can make an hour or two available for that."

"Good thing I love sex as much as you, eh?"

I leaned down and kissed her softly. "Hannah, sometimes we don't even need sex for me to bask in your presence."

"Damn it," she muttered, "You just have to go and be all..." She kissed me back softly. "I love you."

"Love you too."

Christmas Day broke with Hannah blowing me to completion, happily swallowing my entire load, before we rose, showered, brushed teeth, before joining the grandparents for breakfast. That was followed by the arrival of the rest of the family, the opening of presents, helping Grandma prepare dinner, though I just ended up getting in the way, before we finally sat down mid-afternoon for the typical British Christmas dinner.

Despite eating our fill, I kept my promise to my cousin, the pair of us managing to disappear for an hour, Hannah covering her face with a pillow nearly the entire time as I ate her out to one orgasm after another. After cleaning my face, I joined the rest in the living room, Hannah looking rather pleased with life, plenty of colour in her cheeks. Her mother, Kathy, just looked at me and shook her head, grinning away.

That night, we had anal for the first time in ages. Hannah knew how to prepare herself. It was something we didn't too often, but I knew she actually really enjoyed it. Spent most of my night in her arse, one way or the other. The last time I fucked her before I simply had to cry enough, I fucked her harder than I ever had before. She amazed me by demanding even more, pressing her head down tin the pillow as I practically drove my cock into her as hard as I could.

Once I was finished, I cuddled her ever so tightly. All she whispered was that she loved me even more for giving her all the love and affection I could muster.

We stayed in the area until NYE, as we planned to head out with Hannah's friends and partners. The grandparents loved having us around the entire time, and I made sure to keep up with my exercise regime, otherwise I was going to put on pounds thanks to Grandma keeping us fed and watered constantly. Felt rude whenever I said no to the offer of anything.

Heading out into Manchester for NYE, I had my first experience as to just how intimidating I could be. There was a group of ten of us, five couples as all her friends had a partner too. She had kept in touch with Cheryl, who brought along her girlfriend, amused that she was a little awkward to begin with before I assured her I wasn't worried about anything they'd done before. She relaxed and I found her to be rather pleasant company, eventually stating no wonder Hannah had found her company enjoyable too.

Two of the guys were getting a round of drinks when there was a smashed glass, raised voices, and the pub went silent. I glanced to see three guys in front of the two who'd gone to the bar to buy us a round, trying to start something. Hannah looked at me, her eyes asking me to do something, and I nodded. Standing up, I strode towards the group, glancing to see no-one else approaching otherwise.

"Problem here, gentlemen?" I asked.

They all looked at me. "This has nothing to do with you, mate. Fuck off."

"Well, that's not very polite. Tom, any reason why these three men have issue with you?"

"They're accusing me of bumping them. One of them dropped their pint. Obviously apologised but, well, here we are."

"Well, that seems easy enough to solve. Let us buy you a pint and be done with it," I said.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" another asked. When I stared into his eyes, I was surprised at how quickly he wilted under my stare, glancing away within a few seconds. I stared at the one next to him. He smirked and all I did was stare back, those same emotionless eyes I'd perfected in the mirror. He too wilted.

I saw the fist coming out of the corner of my eye. I could smell the alcohol coming off their breath so knew reasoning likely wouldn't work. I caught the fist in my palm and held tight. "Now, now, now. Violence is unnecessary. So I'll ask you this," I said, twisting his arm, "Are you sure you want to take on a RMCO?"

The one who wilted quickly figured out what that acronym met. So did the one who'd thrown the first. "Let me go!" he pleaded, struggling against my grip. I simply tightened my fingers around his fist.

"No, no, no. You've taken a swing at me. I'm not the one who intended to bring violence to this situation. Therefore, gentlemen, the choice is yours. I either deal with the three of you, destroy part of this bar, and find myself arrested for dealing with a trio of drunk dickheads, or I escort you out, you two leave now, and everyone else will enjoy a good night out? Proviso, choose option one, and the first person to suffer will be your friend here. I have his arm in such a position that I'll snap his wrist, dislocate his elbow and shoulder, and that's before I've started on you two."

The one I'd stared down first placed his pint glass down on the bar and walked out. Smart man. The second one looked ready to do something when Tom took a step next to me, Greg stepping forward too. I didn't blame them for sitting back. No-one wanted a fight on NYE. To my relief, the second man turned and departed, and I escorted the third one towards the door and outside. Letting him go, he immediately turned and swung at me. I avoided that and simply pushed him back into his friends. "Please kindly fuck off," I said.

"Fuck you, cunt."

"Go home."

"Make me."

I sighed, shaking my head, and simply walked back into the bar. Joining the rest at the table, Hannah snuggled into me. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm glad I managed to solve that without spilling any claret. Dealt with more than one drunk dickhead while out on the town with the lads. Soon as they see a bunch of soldiers walk in, some men feel the need to prove their worth. We're under strict instructions not to engage. The only reason I involved myself there is that three on two isn't fair."

"Thank, Nate," Tom said, "Thought our new year was about to start in a bad way."

"No dramas, mate. I'm not one to stand aside if shit is about to go down."

He pushed a pint glass over the table. "Anyway, there's your pint. Your money will be worthless rest of the night now."

"Could you have done what you said, about his arm and shoulder?" Greg wondered.

I nodded. "Unarmed combat is important. We're not just armed with a rifle and pistol. Need to know how to use a knife, and if we don't even have that," I held up my fists, "Then using these is important. So we're instructed in hand to hand fighting. Got quite brutal at times. No holds barred sort of fighting."

"You're off in the new year, yeah?" Tom wondered.

"Norway around the fourth of January, then two companies are being sent to Northern Ireland. More a peacekeeping operation nowadays, or that's the hope anyway."

"The GFA seems to be working. Been in place for around a year now. Some groups still want to cause trouble, but most of the locals are tired of all the bullshit. They just want peace," Tim stated.

"I'd like nothing more than a quiet six months," I admitted, "But I am looking forward to Norway. Being an Aussie, we don't exactly see a lot of snow."

It was a great night in the end. All the guys were top lads who I'd met more than once, and I was left thinking they were a little disappointed I lived so far away, as we might have become good friends if I'd lived closer. It was obvious Hannah was missed by her friends, though they understood why she was now living in Bristol.

It was mid-morning on New Years' Day that Hannah and I headed back to the hotel we'd booked for the night. We collapsed into bed still half-dressed, only waking up in time for breakfast as I'd been smart enough to set the alarm. We'd booked an extra night, so spent most of the day chilling as Hannah had quite the hangover, having enjoyed plenty of cocktails with her friends. I'd enjoyed just seeing her let her hair down, though she'd spent half the night draped over me regardless.

That night, we made love for hours as we both knew it would probably be the least chance we'd have privacy for months. Norway and then Northern Ireland were backing up, one to the other. I'd have barely a week between the exercise before leaving for six months. Cuddling up once we simply couldn't keep going, she spent most of her time simply stroking my face or my body, my fingers wanting nothing more than the feeling of her smooth skin underneath.

"Be safe," she whispered, before snuggling close to me, "This is why I can't, Nate. I'll spend the entire time scared."

"Trust me, I'll be scared from time to time too, particularly if shit hits the fan. I think anyone who says they're not is full of shit. But I've been trained. It's my job."

"I know," she said softly, "No matter what, I will miss you like hell."

We drove back to Bristol after lunch with the grandparents the next day, and I returned to barracks the day after that. She cried just before I got into my car outside her apartment, knowing I would now be gone from her life, physically at least, for more than half a year. I knew she was going to miss me and feel lonely, but I said nothing about meeting someone else this time. She knew what I thought about that, aware she couldn't handle the thought of me away at times.

My time in Norway, while gruelling and intense, was a hell of a lot of fun at the same time. Being a Royal Marine was serious business, but there was no reason not to find it fun and enjoyable. Frankly, if you didn't enjoy it, you were in the wrong job. We were not the only foreigners there, with plenty of Special Forces from around Europe also in training, so we ended up spending half the time in some sort of miniature war games. Kept us sharp, at the very least.

Being sent to Northern Ireland was serious business though. Being my first real deployment, I'd admit to some nerves as, although the country was technically at peace, the fact the place had basically been in a state of civil war for decades, and memories were still fresh, meant we arrived in Belfast not feeling particularly welcomed by either side.

I let the family back in Australia know I had finally been deployed. The four of them naturally worried, though knew I'd had all the training necessary. I kept in touch with Hannah but understood why she was quiet in return. She would be constantly worried about me, but worse than that, she'd be feeling lonely, so although I said nothing, I knew there was a chance she might be thinking about moving on. I would never blame her for it. After Northern Ireland, who knew where I would end up?

A couple of the older marines knew more about Northern Ireland then the youngsters. I knew a reference to the war was a typical British euphemism, calling it 'The Troubles'. "Troubles? It was fuckin' civil war," one of my men said in the mess about a month after we arrived, "You had the British Army, the IRA and the UVF going at it, hammer and tongs. The IRA hated the fact the army had been called in, then you had the UVF who just hate fuckin' Catholics, support the Crown, and then you add all the smaller groups with their axes to grind. This place is still a shithole, but at least we can walk down the street now and not have to worry about havin' our fuckin' heads blown clear off or shit blowin' up around us."

"We're in a ceasefire right now, but this place is still a fuckin' tinderbox, far as I'm concerned. The IRA and Sinn Fein are talking a good game, and seem to want all this shit to end, but there are still those loopy cunts out there who want all the shit to continue."