Chapter 50

“I assert nothing, I content myself with believing that more is possible than people think.” —Voltaire, Micromegas

“ARE YOU HOME? Can you talk?”

“Yes! How are you? Where are you? I’ve been thinking about you non-stop.”

“Really? You don’t have enough girlfriends to keep you occupied?”

“Em, no matter how many girlfriends I have, I will always have you on my mind.”

“I so wanted to hear that, J. They gave us our phones back this afternoon and I was afraid I’d miss you.”

“Is it hard?”

“I was going to ask that,” she giggled. “Yes, training is hard, but not that bad. I guess it’s pretty rough on the ones who aren’t in shape. We aren’t required to reach the same level that military basic does. Those who choose military after our basic training still have to go through basic for their branch of service. It’s pretty clear who is going that route and who is trying for a desk job.”

“So, where are you?”

“Oh. They sent me to Camp Mosquito in Minnesota near Duluth. I’m glad I’m here in the summer instead of winter. Keep that in mind when you pick your start date. The biggest hardship is mosquitoes. The real name is Camp Mesabi. There was a lot of crying when we got here and people realized that the six buses we boarded at the intake center each headed to a different training camp. No matter how many times we were told, people just didn’t get the fact that they wouldn’t be going to the same place as their friends. We were just given a boarding card with our bus number when we signed in and went straight to the bus.”

“Geez. They really do their best to make it bad for you, don’t they?”

“It seems that way at first, but I’ve adjusted. I only saw a couple of people I knew at the intake center, so I just figured I’d be alone. Not being able to talk to anyone back home and not being able to use social media has been the hardest. But they buddied people who were having a really hard time with people who were adjusting okay. Sometimes, I’d like to strangle the brat I’m stuck with, but she’s improving. I miss you, J.”

“I miss you, Em. It seems like we have so much to talk about I don’t know where to start.”

“Summer school? Did you succeed?”

“Yes. Rachel and I both passed our session with good grades and will be able to register for AMA/Trig this week. It was exhausting. And I passed drivers’ ed.”

“Well, if you go into my room—er, Pey’s room, with her permission—you’ll find the key to the Prius in my bedside drawer. Have Mom take you for some drives in it. If I don’t need it when I get my NSO assignment, you can use it while I’m gone.”

“That’s sweet, Em. I’ll take good care of it.”

“You better.”

“What are you going to be doing when basic is over?”

“Good question. It looks like I’ll land someplace in logistics, but after they determine my aptitude and approve the area, I could be assigned to any aspect of the supply chain.”

“Supply chain?”

“Could be buying, scheduling, shipping, supply, or anything that has to do with project management and coordination. I’d have to start at the bottom like everyone else, but they have tracks for lower and middle management that I think would be right up my alley. We’ll see.”

“I guess all you can do is whatever they say,” I said.

“Exactly. I may not be in the military, but an order is an order and you go where you’re told. If they wanted to, they could send me to Alaska to buy fish from Eskimos and that’s what I’d do for two years. While structure and discipline are good, the whole process is really demotivating.”

“Geez. Sounds like the government just took all eighteen-year-olds and turned them into slave labor.”

“Pretty accurate description,” she laughed. “Um ... J? How are you? I mean ... you know, dreaming.”

“I won’t say the nightmares are gone but it’s different now. Now that I know what causes them, I deal with it better. I pull myself out before I sink too deep. I’ve only had a couple. Both times, I’ve stopped them by thinking of making love with you. I love you, Em.”

“Oh, I love you, too. I miss you so much. It’s like I just realized what I really want in life and then I had to leave. Will you still love me when I get back? Like that?”

“I will love you forever.”

“Um ... maybe we could get together with your girlfriends when I get a week off after specialty training. You know ... sort of get to know each other better.”

“Em, Rachel has already said it clearly: You are one of us.”

Joan and I made love. Sunday afternoon, we no longer felt like we’d been parted for two months and desperate to get back together. We’d taken it easy enough for the two hours we were together on Saturday that we could just relax and joke with Rachel at lunch. It still seemed strange to my eighty-year-old to have two girlfriends who got along with each other and even made plans to ‘get together’ soon while they were both touching and cuddling with me. After lunch, Rachel begged off Joan’s invitation to join us at her house for the afternoon and encouraged us to have fun.

“I want to join in,” Rachel said. “But first, you two should have a nice time to get reacquainted. You shouldn’t need to feel like your pussy is competing with mine, Joan. Go and get all the cock you can take. Believe me, it’s hard to get too much.”

That being said, Rachel gave us each a deep kiss that left us in no doubt that she’d join us sometime soon.

Once we got back to Joan’s house, we just relaxed into enjoying each other. We didn’t rush, but we were a little single-minded about what we were in her room for. We made love starting from the moment we walked through her house and found her mother was out for the afternoon. Just undressing that girl was enough to get me inspired to great things. I loved every minute of it and, based on the number of orgasms Joan screamed through, she loved it, too. God! She was so different from Rachel! And then she started whispering in my ear what she’d like to do when we were together with Rachel. Joan had me hard as a rock again in seconds. If Rachel had the same ideas, this was going to be a stellar year.

29 July 2019

I’m in love. I wonder how many times I’m going to start a journal entry with those words. I’m sure I’ve done it a dozen times already. But I can’t help it, really. I can’t make love to a woman I don’t love. And I’ve looked at this a dozen ways. Do I just fall in love with any woman I make love to? But I love Desi and Beca and Brittany. I haven’t made love to them. I know, though, that I love them enough to make love to them. Not that I will, but the love is there.

Joan is beautiful. She’s sexy and likes to show it. I love making love to her. But I fell in love with her first.

Not all at once. I thought she was a disgraceful slut when I first saw her. But she isn’t a slut, nor is she disgraceful. Her behavior ... her weekly trolling was a defense mechanism. She went through so many guys precisely because she wasn’t a slut. And she showed us she was both clever and talented when we were working on our Human Geography project. She showed that she cared for us by putting forth some real effort, even when she didn’t expect any return from it. Did she have sex? Sure. Why shouldn’t she. I had sex with Francie before I fell in love with her. Why would I think a girl shouldn’t enjoy sex because it’s fun?

Rachel? Yeah. I have trouble with that. I have trouble with my eighty-year-old inside who lived in a different reality, if any at all. Can I disconnect my feelings enough to not get upset over it? While I make love with Joan and Desi and Em?

That old man might need to die.

Desi got into town late Sunday night and, of course, she wanted me to come over Monday afternoon. She had things for me to try on.

Her mom was still at the Ren Faire she was working that week in Missouri. But her dad brought her back for a few days so she could register for classes. He also came by to pick me up and had talked to Mom about me staying for dinner. Desi wrapped her entire body around me when she saw me. I nervously glanced at her father sitting in the car waiting for us but that didn’t stop her from laying a huge kiss on me.

When we got over to her house, she immediately led me to the basement workshop and started undressing me.

“Desi, I’m going over to Pacific Fabric to pick up those things your mother wants. She’s entirely out of gold braid and running low on a dozen other things,” her dad said from the stairs. I was in clear view of him and half naked as Desi worked on getting my trousers off. “Don’t get carried away. I’ll be back in an hour or an hour-and-a-half.” And then he was gone with his fifteen-year-old daughter undressing her fifteen-year-old boyfriend. I wondered if he knew about Desi’s auction and my bid.

As soon as she heard the door close, Desi stripped down to her panties. She already had most of my clothes off and finished the job by pulling down my boxers and freeing my erection. We spent a while making out and rubbing each other. She made sure I kept my hands outside her panties while we rubbed each other off.