The war started a long time ago but it had been fairly quiet for some time now. The sniper called Joe was not the sort to start a conversation about normal things but he was attracted to the middle-aged schoolteacher with the tight skirt that make her bum stick out like a Christmas present.
Her name was Mrs. Honeybottom and she seldom talked to persons of the opposite gender unless they were under the age of ten. Most of the survivors from the purge of the cities on the coast had scurried to the interior of the country and were trying to set up some sort of defense against the invaders from the east.
Joe had a hard time remembering when the war had started or why they had gotten involved because it was really on the other side of the planet and one would think it wasn't any of their business. After all, when one faction of a religious sect falls out with another similar but slightly different faction, outsiders should be wise enough to keep their distance.
He couldn't recall if Mrs. Honeybottom was one of his teachers back home but she looked terribly familiar and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. One thing that he wanted desperately to put his finger on was the tempting gap between her rolling cheeks when she walked or bent over to pick something up. He was fairly smart for his age which was either twenty-four or twenty-five but he wasn't quite sure which one without consulting a calendar to be certain. It didn't really matter because hardly anyone was celebrating birthdays any longer.
His section was designated combat element October 25 and he had been informed by his older brother Albert that there were 31 sections in all and they were only responsible for the outer perimeter of defense around the new center of operations in the fight against the black-garbed fighters of the false prophet. The first wave of attacks had taken them by surprise because it was common knowledge that their country was the strongest in the world and it would be suicide for any other country to start a war with a superior enemy. Unfortunately, the sense of superiority was mostly in the minds of the politicians and the actual facts were that their defensive posture had been crumbling for decades not just in recent years.
It was a good thing that most of the citizens were already well-armed with no thanks to the government who seemed to think ordinary citizens with weapons was not a good idea at all.
A lot of the current fighting was focused on long range aerial assaults that relied on the quick gunships and some bombers that held a heavy load and carried it a long distance.
They had been losing in that style of fighting because they had problems with fuel supplies and the availability of trained pilots had become desperately inadequate.
He was a member of an elite sniper group that took orders only from central command and operated outside the general nice conduct of the rules of warfare. Their primary targets were the leadership of the opposing force and they were all dedicated to the cause of freedom and liberty.
The shipping container that was now his home had the entire sniper team of eight bunked inside along with four "doctors without borders" and the mobile indoctrination unit that Mrs. Honeybottom now belonged to.
He could picture Mrs. Honeybottom as a female laboring as an indoctrinator to motivate people to fight for the government. She had that persuasive air about her that simply oozed a need for obedience. The educational team was comprised of four nubile females all with that power of attraction that made ordinary men act like fools just to get a chance at finding out what sort of undies they were wearing under their tight skirts.
Since the quarters were so open and yet so tightly crowded, it was accepted that the males and females would copulate behind a hanging blanket not caring that the other residents could hear them panting their depraved satisfaction aloud in no uncertain terms. He hadn't seen or heard Mrs. Honeybottom taking it since his assignment to the windowless container but he had seen her getting dressed one morning and saw that she preferred to wear a skimpy thong instead of the more comfortable knickers most of the females had accepted in the washing machine deprived world.
He had heard the other females calling Mrs. Honeybottom by her given name of Lena and when he finally got up enough nerve to ask her if she wanted to look in his locker box to see if there was a treat she might like seeing how they were scarce and hard to get.
"Hello, Lena, my name is Joe. Do you want to pick out some candy? I have an awful lot and I know you Indoctrinators have no ration cards like us military members."
She looked up at him and smiled and all Joe could see was the thong with the bit of lace pulling him into her sphere of influence. It was like a magnet with the answer to all his problems of restless sleep and urges that made him tense all the time.
"I simply adore chocolate, Joe. Is it all right if I take two? My friend Doris always shares with me and I feel I should do the same with her."
Joe had seen Doris and she was fresh and appealing but nothing like Lena with the eyes that promised things that one could only dream about. He was filled with longing and repressed desire needing expression involving the removal of all clothing without further delay.
He watched Mrs. Honeybottom eating the chocolate and slowly hung the blanket to separate them from the others. He saw that she looked up and smiled with a delightful look of anticipation that made his pre-cum started to seep into his briefs.
.... There is more of this story ...