At the Bridge

As Harry walked over the old bridge he saw the old man. He had obviously come along with the flood of refugees heading west, but he wasn't moving with them, he simply sat on one of the railings. As Harry passed by he could see the man looked to be about seventy years old, but with a lot of the people here you really couldn't tell their age, hell he could be only fifty. The man's head was bald with thin wisps of white hair on each side. He face was wrinkled and his hands seemed to shake as he waved at some of the crowd passing him.

Harry continued over the bridge heading against the flow of traffic. He was heading east toward the enemy, trying to find just how far they had advanced over the last few days. Clouds had set in over the region and all aerial surveillance had stopped, so Harry had to try to blend in with the refugees, get a look at the enemy's location and then get out. He moved quickly, wanting to find his foe and then get back to the city as quickly as possible.

After a few miles of hiking he was able to hitch a ride in a motor car heading east. Within the hour he could see the front lines of the encampment with hundreds of small campfires. In the distant smoke he could see the dark silhouettes of the deadly war machines. Climbing out of the car, he thanked the driver and began waking quickly back toward the west. There were fewer people moving now, just a few stragglers with hand pulled carts, all moving slower than Harry.

It was nearly three hours before he was able to flag down a motor car heading east. This driver knew he was late getting out and Harry had to hold on tightly as the car weaved in and out of the groups of refugees. They began to pick up some rain which made the trip that much more treacherous. Finally, as the car approached the old bridge Harry spotted the old man still sitting on the rail and asked the driver if he minded taking another passenger.

"Three will fit as nicely as two, but let's not dally or we'll get a whole crowd of them wanting to ride," the driver said nodding at a group on the road behind them.

"It will just be a moment, I'll go get him," Harry replied.

Walking over to the railing Harry said, "Come on old man, you can ride with us."

"But I need to wait for her," he said, pointing back down the road to the east.

"Who, those people there?" Harry asked, pointing to the group slowly approaching the bridge.

"No, she said she would come. She would meet me at the bridge."

"When will she come?"

The old man looked at him and said, "But I need to wait for her."

"When is she coming?"

"...meet me at the bridge," he moaned.

"Look, in just a short time the soldiers will arrive, you will not like that."

"But..."

"You need to come with me," Harry demanded, taking firm hold of his arm. When the man resisted he continued, "Look, there is a town just up the road, you can wait for her there."

"Best blowjob ever," the old man mumbled, as he stood up. He slowly began to walk, letting Harry pull him towards the car.

"Yeah I bet, and how much did it cost?"

"It was free, just for me," he replied proudly.

Harry helped the man into the back seat, closed the door and then climbed in the front seat. The car lurched forward and then buzzed across the bridge, all the while the man in the back seat continued mumbling. Finally realizing the man was talking to him, Harry looked at him and listened.

"...unbuttoning my pants and I said, 'But I have no money,' and she said, 'I charge the soldiers, not countrymen.' She wrapped her fingers around me and began to stroke. I was hard in no time, so she used her mouth.

"While she used her hand to stroke and her mouth to suck, I reached down inside her shirt. Her breasts were small, so I ran my hand over her nipples. Oh they got hard, but my attention was drawn back to my cock, as her head moved up and down, her cheeks pulled inward she sucked so hard.

"It's been so long since anyone did anything like that so I was very quick. I watched as her mouth moved over me, my shaft glistening with her spit and then I felt it, so wonderful, so powerful when I came. I said to her, 'I'm coming,' thinking she would pull her mouth away, like my wife did many years ago, but no, she kept her mouth on me. My seed splashed into her mouth and she swallowed it like a fine wine.

"When she sat up and looked at me I noticed a bit dribble from her lips. I reached up and wiped it with my finger but she grabbed my hand and slipped her lips over my finger, lapping up the last of my cum. I wanted to do more for her and reached my hand down between her legs, but instead of what I expected, I felt it... a cock. I felt a small, but very hard cock. I wanted..."

Harry interrupted, "Wait, wait a minute old man. You telling me she was a man. You're here waiting on a man."

"No a woman, so beautiful. The best blowjob ever."

"But it was a man," Harry replied.

"A beautiful woman..."

"With a cock. Did you see it?"

"No, a soldier was coming, someone who paid. She has to eat she told me, but she told me to wait for her, wait at the bridge."

"Well here's the town, it is not far from the bridge, you wait along the road here for her. You'll see her if she comes."

The driver stopped the car and Harry climbed out, opening the door for the old man. "Over there is a tavern, you can eat there, maybe get a room. You can wait for her here," Harry said, climbing back into the car.

The driver pulled away and said, "Poor old man, waits all these years for a good blowjob and it turns out to be a guy."

"I have to wonder what she... he looked like, the old man called her... him beautiful."

"He was probably drunk. Hey how far do you need to go?"

"Next town, got to report into HQ. You better drop me off at the edge of town though, one of my commanders will commandeer your car."

"No vehicles?"

"Plenty of vehicles, but none are running. No gas."

"Ah, well I think I'll drive around the town, stay away from the soldiers."

When they reached the outskirts of town, Harry hopped out, thanked the driver and began walking down the cobblestone street toward the HQ. He spent several hours reporting to several different officers, outlining what he saw and where he saw it. After the debriefings he grabbed a bite to eat and found a place to bed down.

The next day he found he had not yet been attached to a unit so instead of hanging around the town looking for an assignment, he headed back down the road. The weather was clear and the aerial reconnaissance could begin. He listened to the planes buzzing overhead as he walked eastward. The old man and his strange story kept nagging at Harry.

Once Harry reached the town where he left the man he began asking around for him. A few people recalled seeing him but wasn't sure where he was at. After several hours talking to the people moving in and out of the tavern he finally ran into someone who told him the old man was off to meet his girlfriend.

"At the bridge?" Harry asked in a panic.

The man nodded.

Harry got up and quickly headed out of the tavern and began following the road toward the bridge. There was no traffic on the road, but he saw plenty of planes heading back and forth overhead. Something was happening, he'd have to be careful.

Sure enough, within the hour he had to duck into the bushes along the roadside as enemy vehicles passed. As he neared the bridge he noticed a longer convoy with a vehicle flying two red flags with stars on them. Watching from the bushes Harry spotted the driver and then he saw a beautiful woman wearing a bright red dress. Her black hair billowed back from a perfectly formed face, fluttering and falling down on her shoulders.

Suddenly the convoy had passed and the beautiful woman was heading toward the battle lines with her general. Harry got back up on the roadway and continued his trek toward the bridge. It appeared he was now behind enemy lines, but that was nothing new to him. He only hoped that the old man had the sense to keep hidden as the enemy passed.

When the bridge finally came into view Harry couldn't see anyone on or around it, it was completely deserted. By the time he got near the bridge he could see some vehicles heading from the east so he slipped down the bank to hide in the brush. Just as he reached the edge of the water he noticed a body under the bridge, the face badly beaten. Crawling over, he could tell from the clothing it was the old man.

"Old man, it's me, your friend who got you a ride. Can you hear me?"

"I waited... by the bridge," he spoke haltingly, choking some.

"What happened to you?"

"She came. I was hiding by the bridge, but I saw her in the car with the flags. She wore bright red."

"She wore red?"

"Yes, I... I ran out to her and jumped up... the running board. She saw me and smiled, then a soldier... his gun hit me and I fell."

"Over the railing?"

"Yes," he gasped.

Harry wasn't a medic, but he was pretty sure he couldn't do anything for the old man, so he pulled him onto his lap and held him tight, whispering to him to, "Be quiet now."

As the trucks roared overhead he heard his friend cough one more time and then he went limp in his arms. After the convoy left Harry walked up and found a small hill near the bridge where he could see any traffic crossing it. With his knife and some flat stones he dug a shallow grave and as the sun was setting, he dragged the old man up the river bank and placed him in the hole.

In the darkness he began his hike towards the front lines, wishing he got a look at that general. Harry had never had to kill a man before, but things had changed. He checked his gun, loading it for the first time.