This work is copyrighted to the author © 2004. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration.
Sometimes combat can bring out the unexpected in people, especially when they come through a firefight alive.
This story was based on an Army buddy's fantasy. It isn't meant to reflect chauvinistically toward female soldiers. This is a man's fantasy; even military men can fantasize, can't they?
It's almost funny how it all started. I'd been with the 81st Airborne in vehicle maintenance for almost 6- months before our unit was sent to Iraq. Being one of only one hundred women in a battalion of over 5000 men had both advantages and disadvantages and I was getting used to both.
I was committed to making my career in the Army and this was my big chance to prove myself. Being in a combat area, even if I wasn't a front line trooper, was a scary thing. Originally there were two women in our 6-person squad. My friend Carla was killed by a roadside bomb when transporting a vehicle to a small town, south of Baghdad. When they transferred her replacement in, it was a guy, so I was the only female in the squad and so now there was no one that I could really talk to any more.
I'm not saying that I didn't get along with the guys in my squad because I did. As I write this, I can safely say that we're pretty close, and as my story unfolds you'll understand exactly what I mean.
After Carla was killed I became even more afraid of the hostile citizens of Iraq. I have a light completion and almost white-blonde hair, which makes me, stand out like a beacon. Being a female in the military makes the indigenous males stair whenever I'm out in public.
You can't imagine the bond that forms when you and your fellow troopers are placed in harms way and you survive an engagement. After being in Iraq for just over a month and having lost Carla, things had begun to settle into a routine.
We were quickly disabused of the fact that there is such a thing as routine when one is at war. We were delivering a couple of Hummers to Company A that had just gone through maintenance when we were ambushed.
As the rounds began to hit the vehicle I instantly froze. It was Carla all over again, I was going to die in this god-forsaken land and I was so afraid that I actually peed my pants.
We made it through and even though I was scared to death I was able to fire back even while driving on, as fast as I could. I just stuck my weapon out the window and laid down a clip full of rounds in the general direction of the enemy fire. We got past the ambush unscathed except for vehicle body damage.
Once we made it to Alpha area, we reported to the transport officer of Company A and turned in the vehicles a little worse for wear. I felt self-conscious about having peed in my pants but no one made any comments so I just lived with it. All I wanted to do was get back to base, take a shower and crawl into my bunk and sleep for a week. (It really did take a couple of days to get over the fright of being in a firefight.)
What ended up happening was a shocker. I didn't go to bed and sleep for a week, what happened was that Billy Conner (my wingman "shotgun rider") and I ended up screwing like rabbits in heat. I don't know why I did it or why I needed to do it so much, but when Billy and I and the other to troopers got back to base motor pool it just sorta happened.
We'd just come through a real life threatening experience together. We'd fought with real bad guys who wanted to kill us and we'd made it through. We shared an experience that only soldiers have, and there was real love between us, a comradeship that is totally unique to combat.
The only thing was that we we're the normal combat team, we were man and woman, and we had just come through a traumatic experience together. So when we arrived back I told Billy that I was going to hit the showers and then get some chow, he told me that he'd do the same and meet me at the mess hall.
It was strange, the feelings that I was experiencing. The whole time I was showering I felt so horny. I needed sex badly, but I wasn't expecting to have any, especially since I'd been celibate for the past 6- months, ever since graduating from advance individual training and taking leave home for 30-days prior to the unit going overseas.
My last sexual experience was forefront in my mind again all during the shower and while I was drying off. It had been almost casual. He was a boy from my old high school that I'd always liked but never seemed to get together with. I'd met him at the mall one day and he remembered me and seemed interested in me and the fact that I'd joined the Army.
We had lunch that day and ended up at his apartment, in bed all evening. We screwed each other's brains out for 3 straight hours. I enjoyed him immensely and I think he enjoyed himself too because he kept calling me afterwards, but I didn't want to get into any relationships just before going overseas. I wanted to be free to experience what might come without feeling guilty about a boyfriend back home.
Our lovemaking kept rumbling around in my head as I dressed and headed to the mess hall. Billy was already there and he looked squeaky clean and inviting. He greeted me like a comrade would who had just survived combat together. It felt warm and pleasant just sitting next to him.
After eating Billy walked with me to my tent, (ever since Carla was killed I'd been bunking alone.) And when he was about to leave I took hold of his arm and asked him if he'd like to come in for a while.
It's against regulations for a male trooper to be in a female trooper's tent for any reason. The fact that I invited Billy in, "screamed" what I wanted from him. And the fact that he came in without saying anything made it plain that he was both willing and ready to take the consequences if we were found out.
Once we were in my tent it was like lightning striking. I reached up and hung from his neck as I planted a kiss on his lips. That was all it took, I'm not even sure what happened next or who made the first moves. All I remember was that after we'd both cummed and were laying beside each other trying to catch our breath I realized that we'd just done the deed and marveled at the intensity of it.
The next day Billy tried to reproduce the event by making himself available, but I didn't want to get a reputation for being the camp whore, so finally when it was becoming obvious that he was trying to romance me I had to set him straight. I told him that our little affair had been a one-time deal. That I'd enjoyed it immensely and that he had been really great, but that we couldn't do it again because I'd get the kind of reputation that I didn't want.
Billy took it pretty well, although I could tell that he was hurt by my rejection. And after that we were "special" friends and our lives settled into somewhat of a routine again.
But then about 4-months later things took a turn to the bizarre. I'd been in Iraq for almost 6-months by then and had become used to the danger of transporting vehicles through the countryside knowing that at any moment someone might try to end my life.
We were taking three signal vans to a security unit when we came under fire. Our entire squad came under fire and we had to stop since the lead vehicle had been disabled by a direct hit to the grill section that took out the radiator. These signal vans weren't armored like the usual vehicle, they were designed to sit in a compound and not move once a base was set up.