The PFC Goes to a Party

by Just Plain Bob

Copyright© 2010 by Just Plain Bob

Erotica Sex Story: She gives new meaning to the term "Doing your duty."

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Cheating   .

The lights came on and voices screamed "Off it and on it" as Sgt. Morales went down the aisle kicking bunks. Teresa rolled off the upper bunk and looked at her watch. Four forty-five; god damn you George Bush, this is just too damned early to get put of bed. "Get your shit together people and clean up this pig sty" Sgt. Morales yelled, "I want you back from the mess hall by 0600. It's a two-hour march to the range and I intend to have your asses there by 0800. Now move it!"

The day was a long one for Teresa Moore. A two-hour march to the range, hours spent pulling and marking targets, and then firing from the prone, standing, sitting and kneeling positions at known distance targets. Then, because she had pissed one of the noncoms off she had to clean not only her piece but her squad leaders too. The only good thing about it was that they weren't treated like boots and they were allowed to dip the actions in kettles of boiling water. Then came the two hour march back to barracks, the last half mile at double time, and every step of the way Teresa cursed Saddam Hussein, George Bush and all of the other idiots who were determined to attack Iraq. She cursed herself for being so stupid as to join the reserves to help her pay for her nurses training. Her husband had warned her, but she wouldn't listen. He had gone to Desert Storm and he had warned her two years ago that the US wasn't done over there. Now he was at home drinking beer with his buddies while she was putting in sixteen-hour days and being yelled at by some cretin of an NCO almost every minute of it. Thank God it was Friday and she had a weekend pass. It was too far to make the trip home and back, but at least she could get off the base and away from that fucking idiot Morales.

Teresa slammed down the phone with a curse. This was the third Friday in a row that she had spent half an hour on the phone trying to reach her husband. He was always there Monday through Thursday and after three in the afternoon on Sunday, but she had never been able to get him on the phone on a Friday or Saturday. A voice behind her said, "I told you that you were wasting your time. He's out getting his ashes hauled."

She turned and saw Joyce, the girl who bunked under her. "You've been gone six weeks now sweetie, and probably will be gone for at least another six months before you can see his sorry ass. I keep telling you that no married man used to getting a steady supply of pussy is going to sit there and watch TV. You need to come with me tonight. I know where there are a couple of good parties and I promise you that I can get you laid. You need it sweetie - it's written all over you."

Teresa knew Joyce was right - she did need to get laid, but she had promised to stay faithful to her husband. She also knew Joyce was right about Danny being out. He was probably out partying with his buddies, but Teresa knew in her heart that he wasn't picking up girls. He wouldn't do that, he loved her too much - she just knew it. But she did need to blow off some steam and a good party would help her do that. But there were parties and then there were parties and Teresa knew that the parties that Joyce went to could be a little over the edge. Joyce was married, but in her own mind she had accepted that her husband would be out looking to get laid while she was gone and her philosophy was that if it was good enough for him, it was good enough for her. Teresa wasn't sure, but she believed that Joyce was seeing Sgt. Morales. That would account for why Joyce never seemed to get any of the shit details that were heaped on Teresa. However, Teresa knew she needed to loosen up this weekend and she agreed to go to a party with Joyce.

Teresa was glad that she had allowed herself to be talked into coming to the party. It was being held at the off-base apartment of a member of the post's permanent party and all the furniture had been moved out of the living room to create a dance floor. The minute Teresa had walked in the door a drink had been placed in her hand and then she had been pulled out onto the dance floor. She was having a better time than she had expected. When every dance was over another drink was put into her hand and it seemed like she had to gulp it down in a hurry because the music would start up again and somebody would grab her hand and lead her back out onto the dance floor again. After three hours of drinking and dancing Teresa was feeling no pain and when the guy she was dancing with let his hand slip down to her ass all she did was move in a little closer to him. It felt good to be held again and when she felt his erection against her leg she smiled to herself, "You've still got what it takes" and for some reason she did not pull away from it. Teresa didn't notice when they changed her drinks from singles to doubles and then to triples, all she knew was that she felt good for the first time since she had been called up.

 
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