Pēteris - Cover

Pēteris

Copyright© 2017 by Omachuck

Chapter 1: Finding A Hero

He wasn’t a ‘pretty boy’ nor was he ruggedly handsome. In short, his visage wouldn’t cause women to cross a room to be near him. He was in good shape, but he looked ‘ordinary.’

Pēteris Aloysius Boyle, Junior (of course) - otherwise known as Pete - was often perceived as an indolent man. Some thought he was lazy, but a more observant individual would see him as very economical of thought and motion. For that matter, Pete was economical with money, too. He would carry twice the normal load to avoid making an extra trip or would research the price of toothpaste to save a nickel.

While he was in the US Army, he was both a sergeant’s dream and a sergeant’s nightmare. A dream in that Pete would follow orders and instructions to the letter, and a nightmare because he would follow orders and instructions to the letter. Pete did not suffer well fools or the truly lazy, even when they outranked him. If a sergeant wanted Pete to do something, instructions and the goal needed to be clear, or the results were likely to be other than what was intended.

Pete was always searching for a twofer or even threefer. When exposed to martial arts in basic training, he recognized that he could put his needed exercise to an additional purpose and applied himself diligently. He was an excellent shot, but seeing no need to waste money on a bullet when putting meat on his family’s table, he was also deadly accurate with a sling. Having been trained in folk medicine by his grandmother, he saw more long-term value in medicine than in toting a rifle - especially for after his term of enlistment was over. Pete applied for and was accepted to train as a combat medic.

Because Pete saw little value in prolonged seductions, he had fewer paramours rather than many. But he saw much value in prolonged trips to orgasm, and those women who discovered him were loath to let him go. Thus, Pete had many more liaisons than most. With his ladies, he was gentle and kind, but not romantic. His grasp of the mechanics of sex was legendary among those few, enduring love - not so much.

The end of Pete’s military commitment found him making the rounds, looking for employment as an EMT.


Dusk was settling in with a rosy sunset as Pete left the latest employment agency on a Friday, ending a long week. His choice of fields was beginning to feel not so wise, at least in this city. Here at least, politics, connections, and under-the-table expectations seemed to play larger roles than training, experience, and competence. Pete shuddered to think of those poor individuals needing an EMT in this benighted location.

He turned right as he exited the agency, and as he passed the corner of the building, he heard a shrill scream. Pete was no coward, so he took it upon himself to investigate. Down the dimly lit alley, a girl or young woman was struggling against two large male figures. Her successful escape was doubtful.

Pete had full confidence in his martial arts training, but economical man that he was, he let fly two half inch steel bearings from the supply that he carried with his ever-present sling. The two men slumped to the pavement, and Pete sauntered over to help their intended victim.

He reached down to help her stand. Assured that she was unharmed, he looked for, retrieved, and pocketed the two missiles. The attackers had selected a location without security cameras, and Pete had no intention of spending hours answering police questions. With no weapon trail and no clear cause of the yahoos’ injuries, he felt no need for further bother, except perhaps to see their intended victim safely home.

“May I escort you home or to some place safer, miss?” Pete asked politely.

“Yes, please, Mr. Boyle.” He looked again, and recognized the woman from the agency he had just exited. “I live with my grandfather and sister. It’s only a few blocks away.”

“Why don’t you take my arm and steer me.” Pete said, offering his arm.

They exited the alley onto a lighted sidewalk and proceeded at a fast walk so as not to be near the alley if the two hulks were noticed. He looked down at the pretty red head who didn’t reach to his shoulder. Looking up, her clear green eyes met his. “I’m afraid that I can’t offer you the usual Hero’s reward,” she blushed and started. “It’s not that I’m ungrateful, but I’m engaged to be married, and I’m very faithful.”

“I’m sure you are,” responded Pete, “but what reward would that be?”

The girl - errr woman - on his arm turned a darker shade of red - something he would have thought unlikely. “You know. Sex!” she responded.

“No, I guess I don’t know,” Pete said as they walked on.

“Well, if my sister, Robyn, is home, she might be very grateful. She’s the grateful type.” came the response along with a refusal to look at him.

The pair turned up a cobbled path leading to a very old but well maintained house. She took a key and unlocked the door, calling as she entered, “Papa, I’m home. I brought a guest with me. A Hero!


Seated in what could only be described as a well-appointed parlor and sipping a brandy on ice, Pete waited for the reappearance of his hostess.

When she entered the room, she was accompanied by a man, clearly over sixty, who approached with hand outstretched. “My Miriam tells me you are a Hero who saved her from two ruffians.”

Pete could hear the capital ‘H’ and the formal nature of the older man’s speech.

“I offer our sincerest gratitude,” he glanced at Miriam, “Well maybe not quite her sincerest - but true at any rate.”

Pete remained puzzled at the implications from both individuals that something - sex? - was expected as a reward.

Covering the awkward pause, Pete offered, “Sir, I’m Pēteris, ‘Pete, ‘ Boyle, and ah gratitude is not expected.”

Miriam’s grandfather offered up his name, ‘Daniel Moon.’ “That caused a lot of trouble for me growing up. Not quite as bad as ‘Sue’ but close.” He laughed.

“Stay for supper,” he invited. “Miriam’s sister Robyn should be home shortly, and I have a big pot of chili and a pan of cornbread just waiting for her to get here.”

“Robyn and Miriam, really?” chuckled Pete as he finally focused on the pair of names.

“Yeah,” answered Miriam. “Papa’s father wasn’t the only one in the family with a whacked out sense of humor. This time it was our mother. Sis and I are just thankful our last name isn’t Hood.”

Upon the arrival of platinum blonde Robyn, they adjourned to the dining table. During the meal, beer and conversation flowed, followed by a few tequila shots back in the parlor.


Pete was smart and controlled enough not to get plastered, but he likewise had somewhat of a buzz that came and went.

During the evening, he learned that Robyn was an emergency room nurse and that the women’s grandfather had retired from the Marines as a gunny sergeant.

Though Pete had only one combat assignment under his belt, that year gave him many war stories to swap with the older man. His detailed descriptions of some of the casualties enabled Robyn to relate to him as well. He was savvy enough to tell many of the combat stories as happening to others, but the details he provided gave lie to his attempts at modesty.

Pete found that he liked this family, and he felt more at home and welcome than at any time since he joined the army.

As the evening progressed, the older man finally worked around to what he really wanted to know. “Miriam says that you put down those two hoodlums before you ever reached them. No gun, no knife, no stick, no nothing. Was she out of it, or what? Give!” he almost demanded.

“Well, Miriam was partially correct. I didn’t use a gun or knife or stick; I used this,” and he produced his sling. “At that range, it wouldn’t surprise me if I cracked two skulls. I’m not particularly concerned one way or another. The authorities weren’t where they needed to be; they can clean up the mess.”

He passed his sling to Daniel, who examined it with interest. “Growing up, my family wasn’t particularly well off, so I put meat on the table with that. I’m a reasonable shot with a long gun, but this is cheaper.” He grinned and continued, “There’s an added bonus. It doesn’t blow rabbits, squirrels, and such into small fragments, and I don’t have to pick buckshot out of my dinner.”

After examining the well-used sling, Daniel passed it over for the two women to see. “I don’t suppose you used anything else?”

“Well, snares - of course - and in emergencies I threw my knife,” Peter offered, “but I don’t have my knife with me. Left it with my little sister in case her honor was threatened. Pity the numbnut that gets her dander up,” he mused.

“Well, it’s time for this old man’s sleep,” stated Daniel after a pause. “You’ve had a dram or two to drink. Will you stay the night? There’s plenty of spare beds, and I’d like to visit a little more in the morning.”

Pete agreed, and was led up the stairs to a nicely furnished guestroom, shown the bath, and given a heavy green robe and a toothbrush. The two ladies kissed his cheek, bid him a good night, and left him.


Pete was almost asleep when his door cracked and a slim body slipped into the room and under the covers with him. The body was naked.

After a moment, Robyn snuggled up and whispered, “I don’t sleep around; I only sleep with Heroes.” She giggled, “You’re the first real Hero I’ve ever met, well other than my father and grandfather. I’m grateful that you rescued my favorite sister.”

She was grateful several times during the night, and each time, Pete was grateful in return.

In the morning, Robyn was riding him fast and hard when the door opened and a t-shirt clad Miriam entered with a tray covered with juice, coffee, homemade biscuits, and jam. She smirked and said, “I told you she was the grateful type.”

Robyn never paused or took her eyes from his, but Pete looked around her and remonstrated, “Shame! You malign your sister. She came to me a virgin.”

“I never said that she wasn’t,” protested Miriam as she sat the tray on a table. She looked at her sister and demanded, “Finish up before your coffee gets cold.”

Robyn shuddered in completion, lay her head on Pete’s chest, and then lifted it and pretended to glare at her sibling, “You didn’t want him, so don’t go getting uppity with me.” Then she added, “You can bet I’m not throwing him back in the pond.”

Miriam shrugged and sat on the bed beside them holding her own coffee mug.

“You’re awfully calm about this,” Pete observed wryly. “How is your grandfather going to react? Do I need to exit, stage left?”

“No!” exclaimed the two women together, then Robyn continued, “He of all people knows of Heroes and Rewards! There was that emphasis again.


Breakfast finished, Pete excused himself to take care of his overdue morning business. He had just stepped into the warm spray from the multiple heads in the over-large shower, when the curtains opened and two nymphs stepped in and began to wash him. Apparently, Miriam’s reserving her virginity did not extend to refraining from touchy-freely.

The two ladies were of similar build and of equal beauty, but a stranger would not take them for sisters. Miriam’s hair might be described as Irish red, and she had green eyes set in a round, freckled face. Robyn’s crystal blue eyes, white-blond hair, and pale clear skin would be termed Scandinavian. Perky tits, well-toned bodies, and neatly trimmed pubic hair had Pete standing at attention.

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