Whisper 01: Trina and Lynn

They finished their wine. Rinsed out the glasses and headed to Lynn's Land Rover.

Looking at his vehicle, with its bench front seat, Trina started to say something and then stopped.

"I started to say, 'odd choice for DC' and then realized in any accident you win. You have the most steel on the target," she said smiling at his puzzled look at her using a military phrase.

Trina was wearing white culottes which were snug around her 24-inch waist and 31-inch hips but loose around her firm, tanned thighs. And a knit top with enough neckline to show some cleavage, and a pair of leather loafers and ankle socks.

They talked about her trip, what she had learned.

"Lynn, can I ask you questions about what they do? Background types? Explanations of what I saw?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied, reaching over to her and suggesting. "Switch to the middle and buckle up please," he said. "I want to touch you."

After she moved, he draped his right arm over her pulling her a smidge closer he said, "Go on, talk."

The five-hour drive ended at the resort office where he picked up their key for the weekend. They then went shopping at a grocery store to get some simple fare to fix in the cabin.

It was a simple log cabin. One single large room, with a sheet metal shower and an almost clear plastic shower curtain. But it was more than large enough for two. Propane for the stove and hot water heater. A three-burner stove with a small oven. A small, apartment-sized refrigerator which also ran on propane.

Trina stocked the refrigerator while Lynn unloaded their bags from the Rover, then made the bed with the linens the office had provided. It being early May, the nights got nippy. There was a pot-bellied stove for heat. He brought firewood in from outside, enough for the weekend - just in case of rain.

With it already getting cool outside, Lynn started a small fire in the cast iron stove just to take the chill of.

"You're going to make it hot," Trina commented.

"Then take your clothes off," Lynn smiled. "I certainly won't mind."

"Only after you do," she retorted smiling as she swished her hips turning back to the stove where she twitched her hips suggestively as she got a pan of brownies ready to bake.

She continued doing what she was doing hearing him moving around like he was putting things up.

She glanced over her shoulder and found him sitting on the love seat, naked, as he watched her mirth occupying his face. His sizeable cock was half erect.

"Oooo," she said. "I like the view. Can I get more of that?" she cooed.

"Inside and outside both, if you will," he said knowing they were a mile from the nearest cabin.

"Come here and gently stir this," she asked.

When Lynn got there, she quarter turned his hips and dropped to the floor to suck his half-aroused member into her mouth.

After a couple of minutes, she pulled her mouth off his cock with a loud, wet pop.

"I need a little protein shake. You mind?" she asked getting a deep chuckle in response that made his hardening penis jump up and down in her mouth.

She took that as approval and proceeded to practice her deep throating - she had stopped by one of the dark doorway stores in DC and picked up a magazine about the recently released movie "Deep Throat" that included what was supposed to be an interview from Linda Lovelace allegedly recounting how she trained to deep throat.

Trina was determined to take 'the whole salami' down her throat.

Despite his efforts to move away from the stove. Even after turning off the stove and pouring the batter into the greased pan, Trina would not stop until he came in her mouth and down her throat. She managed to get a couple of ropes straight down her throat exciting her even more.

"Good," she said, licking his cum-sopped penis like a lollypop while continuing to pump it to keep it erect. "You're officially behind on the scoreboard and have to catch up. Goody, goody." She snickered.

"Now for dessert," she said. "And I'm not on the menu - yet."

Trina wouldn't let him get dressed. And she refused to undress as they sat and ate.

As they sat down, he gave her pause for thought when he asked, "You mind if I say Grace?" he asked.

"No, never. Even in restaurants. That is fine with me," she said having to restrain from giggling at a naked man saying grace and asked for blessings on their families, their nation, the men and women who served them and "most especially the finest piece of ass on this planet," he said looking up after saying 'Amen' his eyes dancing as she looked at him, her mouth wide open in shock and her face deeply flushed.

Trina sat there with her mouth gaping as Lynn said liltingly, "Now I am officially on record as proclaiming to God that you are the finest piece of ass on earth," as he began to eat his eyes dancing.

"Well, I guess you can't ever take that back," she said shaking herself out of her stunned silence.

Just as Trina recovered enough from her shock to start eating, he casually asked, "Is there another man? I mean you've been practicing. Should I feel hurt you wouldn't practice on me? Or should I be jealous?" he asked, again his eyes dancing while he tried, unsuccessfully, to pull a pouty face. His eyes were giving it away. In spades!

This time, finally realizing he played for fun but also played for keeps, she responded with her mantra, 'always the truth.'

"No. And No. I went to one of those sleezy hole in the wall adult stores, during the daylight hours, and got a magazine where Linda Lovelace discusses how she trained to deep throat," Trina said, as she smiled around her fork her eyes dancing.

"I know you have your goal for this weekend - taking my ass. But I have my goal for this weekend as well. And this is going to be an equal partnership misted!" she proclaimed as he stared at her, curious.

"My goal is having you shoot your whole load down my throat, your lovely, wonderful, massive cock nestled between my vocal cords with my lips buried in in your pubic hair," she said smirking seeing she got to him with that one!

"It is going to be an interesting weekend," Lynn replied softly, a bit subdued as he realized she could give as good as she could take. He began to wonder if she wasn't 'the one,' a thought that had crept into be back of his mind on multiple occasions this week as he recalled watching her, discretely, when they were teens.

After supper, they washed dishes. He still naked and she clothed.

But once finished, Lynn scooped her up in his arms as she laughed thinking he was taking her to the bed when he walked to the front door, pulled it open, walked outside with only a full moon filtering through the trees towards the creek that ran by the cabin.

It was about 30 yads away and 20 feet below the level of the ground beneath the cabin - which was built, itself, three feet above the ground.

Trina began shrieking as Lynn just kept walking out into the 50-degree water finding the pool behind a constriction which was almost five feet deep.

Getting thigh deep in the water as Trina tried to keep her feet out, he simply leaned forward and dove into the water as she screamed protestations between her peals of laughter.

Lynn kept them under for about 20 seconds then stood raising her out of the water as she sputtered, muttered and had difficulty forming a cognitive statement from the shock.

"Arrghhhh that's fucking COLD!" she finally wailed. As her wet clothes clung to her firm, athletic body.

"How! What? Why? You bastard!!" she screeched mockingly pummeling his chest, although not hard as she started laughing at the lunacy of this man.

Although he slipped twice dumping them back into the water up to their necks, he never, ever let go of her as he struggled up the bank and walked back to the cabin, through the doorway and then pushing the door closed with his feet.

He strode over to the pot-bellied stove depositing her on her feet wondering if he should be concerned. She had gotten silent. Her face pensive.

While still holding her with his left hand, he opened the door to the stove and tossed four sticks of wood in closing it before the wood could pop and possibly send an ember towards her now translucent skin.

Trina stood looking at him, herself realizing a nagging, wonderful, scary, titillating, arousing thought had been playing in the back of her mind. Was he the one?

Lynn proceeded to strip her naked as the dry wood quickly caught in the well-ventilated stove - he had reached behind and down and opened the air vent to fully open and accelerate the air flow.

He then walked over to the dresser and picked up a towel and came back proceeding to dry her - although when he dried her now freshly trimmed pubes he paused.

"I must in loving reverence," he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear, as he leaned forward and gently kissed the top of her vagina - taking care not to get her wet. She was cold. Thus, it was a dry kiss.

He continued drying her. Muttering the same phrase before gently kissing each rigid nipple, and then her chin, her nose, her eyes, her eyebrows, her forehead and finally, when he leaned into her lips - with her backside toasting warm, she wrapped her arms around him, turning him put his back towards the stove and dry off.

"God your freezing," she said. "Why?" she started before he put a finger to her lips. "Always ladies first. Besides I'm the one that got you cold, not the other way around," he said leaning in to resume kissing.

He broke their kiss several minutes later commenting, "Besides that will warm me up," he said as she realized at least one thing of his was warm. Very, very, very warm, and firm, and leaking!

They proceeded to make love, on the love seat in front of the stove, for over an hour continuing to explore each other's body.

Lying together on the love seat, she again in the glow of having come often, and well only to have him 'clean up after himself' once again sending her soaring yet again, Trina played with his face and jaw, tracing a scar.

"How did you get this?" she asked softly feeling him tense up beneath her.

"Lynn, for this, us, to work - and God, I hope it works, I really, really do - we must be open and honest with each other," she said, never stopping to look at his eyes for fear of what she would see, and never stopping her gentle caresses.

"I need to know about you, and what I am getting myself into. So, at the risk of repeating myself, how did you get this?" she asked softly, gently willing herself not to tense up - he was super attentive to her body language. A lesson she was quickly learning.

"I was not there to share your recovery, but I need to know. No, we need to know where each of us has been and the major experiences that have made us the person we are so attracted to," she said stopping to return his soft, almost butterfly kisses, to various parts of his face and neck.

"So, my magnificent lover who embarrasses me before my God, how did you get this?" she asked softly finally daring to look at his eyes.

Lynn saw fear, trepidation - and affection - in Trina's eyes, and in doing so his eyes softened from their steely glare, almost angry, to sorrow, to then appreciation and finally, affection.

He leaned forward and kissed her on the tip of her nose.

"We were on patrol, long range recon, outside Quan Tran. I was a corporal at the time having just been promoted..." he began and started telling what he had never told anyone before.

Trina would continue to caress and touch him, tracing the scars on his body - far, far too many for her liking - all while letting him know he was physically safe with her in his arms and emotionally safe with her affection and concern.

She told herself she would only ask about one scar per week. Never overwhelming him with tough memories. Besides, too many times in dealing with the servicemen she had interviewed, and later confirmed by their lovers, wives and widows, she had seen that thousand-yard stare her father's generation 'didn't talk about' because it wasn't manly.

She had no desire to force any PTSD situations on him. Not until she learned how to help him deal with them.

Over an hour later, after getting him to tell her about the men he was serving with, including the two who were wounded and the one who died resulting in another promotion, this time to sergeant, Trina told herself. 'No more this weekend. Slowly. Slowly on these. They are too emotional. He needs to time for the reopened scabs to heal,' she told herself.

When he finished, tears starting to dry on his cheeks over the departed, having admitted to her that at times he feels guilty that he survived, she leaned forward and kissed the tears away proceeding for the first time in her life to 'make love' rather than be the one love was made too.

She had always been the object of the passion, and until Lynn rarely the affection and love only for affection's sake. But now she found someone, this man, a hell of a man, who not only would seem willing to accept it, but most obviously needed it.

It took all her skills, all her tricks, but slowly, ever so slowly she lit the fires of lust in his soul eventually riding him to a growling, moaning orgasm. For once he did not clean her out as she fell asleep atop him on the loveseat pulling a worn smooth wool blanket over them.

They both woke about 3 in the morning, cold and itchy. It might have been worn smooth, but it was wool!

Lynn stirred first, finally nipping her earlobe, her hair covering his face, tickling and tormenting him, to get her to rouse.

"Move. Fire's almost out. Cold. Itchy," he muttered between kisses to the offended lobe.

Lynn got up, covering her with the blanket while he padded across the cold floor - there was no insulation beneath the wood because of the pier and beam foundation which was exposed to the cool mountain winds which in turn turned cold because of evaporation off the stream.

He threw four sticks in on the coals knowing they would soon catch, then walked over and turned down the bed before going back for Trina, once again scooping her up, wool blanket and all, as she squealed with delight - 'Damn I'm getting to like being manhandled by him!' she thought know she had always, ALWAYS resisted being mauled, manhandled by any of her lovers - he deposited her on the bed, quickly pulled the blanket off, pulled the sheet and quilt over her and then air fluffed the wool blanket over the regular sized bed as a top cover. He walked around to the other side and crawled in behind her pulling her head to his shoulder and caressing her as he spooned her backside to his front side.

"Thank you," he said. "Thank you for getting me to share," he said knowing, in part, what she was doing as the pain from tearing the scar tissue was being to ease the constant, aching pain - pain in his tormented soul.

She could feel the tears softly fall on her face, but he was not sobbing. Unable to see, she did not know if they were tears of sorrow, or tears of release. She prayed they were the latter.

The light of dawn awoke them. She before he. As she awoke, Trina realized that here - nestled in the loving, protective arms of this man, was where she wanted to be. She also realized that reliving his war memories had emotional wrung him out, and she re-evaluated her 'one a week' thought.

Trina started the day by doing her own 'muff diving' as she so crudely heard frat boys saying during college. Enjoying the fact, he was half erect - probably needing to pee.

She felt him stir beneath her as she never stopped practicing her deep throating skills.

"Damn that's a glorious way to awaken," he said softly before groaning once again. "But I really need to piss," he moaned.

"Then you better hurry and fill my belly with spunk," she said taking a breath only to squeal around his member as he tossed the bedclothes off, grabbed her thighs above the knees and plumped her sex on his mouth as he attacked her. He quickly had her squirming and squalling, wailing she needed to pee as well.

Lynn rolled them over, rolled himself off the bed, scooped her up and headed for the front door.

'Oh shit!' she thought in fear. 'Not the creek again!' But she kept quite willing to experience whatever adventure this man was desiring.

Instead, he walked out on the porch, swung her around one of the porch posts so her feet were straddling it growling, "Grab the post. We're in hillbilly country where real men and women pee off the front porch. So damnit woman! Squat down and pee!" he ordered as he held her back with his left hand, and his member with his right as he began to urinate.

It took Trina a few seconds to realize no one other than God, and Lynn could see her. And if he was going to clean sperm out of her body, then why can't he watch her piss.

So, she squatted down and joined him. For more than a minute the only sounds were the sounds of two streams of yellow fluids striking the ground three feet below the porch, and the birds singing to the morning sun punctuated by the sounds of a bobcat squalling in the mountains on the other side of the stream.

"You are crazy you know it," Trina giggled as she hung there trying to figure out how to wipe herself clean.

"Eeeekkk!" she squalled as he quickly rotated her 180 degrees back onto the porch and dropped to one knee and licked her vulva cleaning her.

"There. You're clean," he said. "Got a question? And yes, I'm crazy - at least I am when I'm with you. Wanna just go naked all day, other than hiking boots and socks?" he asked his eyes almost pleading.

She looked at him, realizing that her arms had gone around his shoulders, and she had spread her legs giving him 'full access.' Trina cocked her head thinking then asked, "Yes, except if we go white watering. I don't want to explain to my editors why I got arrested in Podunk, West Virginia, for public lewdness," she laughed.

It wasn't even seven, but they fixed breakfast and then explored around the cabin for a few hours, making love in the soft leaves, splashing in the creek and making love again, with her facing leaning into a tree as he took her firmly from behind toying with her back door as he massaged her front door from inside.

At one point, when they were just curled on a lichen covered large boulder letting the sun warm their skin from the creek where they had fornicated, he caught her stroking another scar she could see.

Realizing he caught her she stopped suddenly only to have him say, "No that's alright. I got that one...," he started only to have her put her fingers over his lips and stop him.

"No, I wasn't asking you to tell me," she said softly trying to reassure him.

"I was just tracing its indentions and trying to imagine the depth of your love for the men that you would be willing to endure the risk, the pain. That's all. I wasn't trying to get another story," she said softly sadly.

"I know you weren't, but I am willing to talk about them - maybe not a whole weekend of it because I still want to do some exploring of your marvelous body - but you were correct. We are both attracted to the whole person. So, it helps if we know how we each got that way. So that one..." he said this time a less painful story. Oh, he and four others were wounded to lesser or greater degrees. But no one died that time.

She suspected it was the death of a comrade that was the big cross which nearly buckles his knees each time he walks that path.

They wandered back to the cabin - a little pink in areas that may have never seen the sun. They fixed lunch, fooling around some more. He let her ride him until she came. They then got dressed to go do some whitewater kayaking. Three hours later they were exhausted, stopping at the local diner and actually having a really good dinner and drinking some beer. It was cold. It was wet. It was alcoholic, at least.