Chapter 26

Iraq – Balad Air Base – Sunday

Mortaritaville

SFC Wilkins looked at the distinctive tall bottle of Macallan 18 single malt whisky on the desk. About a quarter of the amber-colored liquor remained, an expensive bottle of booze, and technically not allowed on base.

“I figured you would appreciate it more than leaving it for my Cro-Magnon colleagues,” Monica said.

“Thank you!” Bob took a deep breath, suddenly feeling emotional as he said goodbye to his sister. They’d been through a lot in the last month.

He had just come off his overnight shift and was returning from a quick shower when he ran into Monica outside his CHU.

She looked good, dressed down in casual outdoor clothes. He hadn’t asked where she’d been since he returned from Greece alone. CIA business, so none of his.

“Where to next? If you can tell me,” Bob said as they stood close, memories of Thessaloniki still fresh in his head. Hers too, from the look on her face. “I had fun in Greece.”

“Me too,” Monica moved closer, they were arm in arm, he could feel the heat of her body. Smelling her hair, he closed his eyes, seeing that last evening, fucking her, his cock sliding in and out, sweat dripped down his chest as he held her hips, her loud moans filling the air, Liv lying underneath Monica, her pussy wet and ready. Pulling out, fucking Liv’s tight cunt, then back in Monica, until he shot his load and collapsed on the girls. “Home, to Virginia. Back to the office.” She stepped back.

His sister took a white envelope from her backpack and laid it on the desk. “Something to remember us by.”

“Okay. Hey, go see Mom and Dad, don’t be a stranger, and come visit us this summer,” Bob said. He liked having his sister around again.

“Knock, knock,” Colleen said, her knuckles making brief contact with his partially closed door. “Oh, am I interrupting?”

He caught the sudden smirk on his sister’s face. “I’ll visit.”

Colleen’s hair was wet, and she wore her PT gear, black shorts, and a grey Army t-shirt.

“You’re not interrupting. She was just leaving,” he said, giving her a light push.

Instead, Monica gave him a big hug. “You’ve been cheating on me,” she said quietly in his ear.

The blonde tornado that was his sister turned and faced Nurse McMurphy. “He’s all yours, Captain,” she said.

Colleen pointed a finger. “You’re the mysterious blonde who made Sergeant Wilkins disappear from my hospital last month.”

As Monica moved past Colleen, she paused and whispered in her ear. Colleen looked at Bob. He couldn’t read her face, just that grin, as Monica pulled the door closed behind her.

Bob did his best to explain. His sister, the government software contractor, was leaving, heading back to the States. Colleen didn’t buy it, especially when she saw the expensive bottle of Scotch whisky and asked what was in the envelope.

They sat on his bed in shorts and T-shirts, sipping old whisky in cheap plastic cups. Both freshly showered. Wow, it had been a while since he tasted something this good, rich, and velvety, with the taste of dried fruits passing over his tongue. Colleen smiled, her knee tapping his thigh. “This is good.” She raised her cup.

Bob held the envelope, afraid to open it. She took it from his hand. The last three mornings together, they’d grown closer. She understood his situation at home and he hers. Colleen was ending a relationship when she got home, before her move to North Carolina.

Eyeballing him, she pulled out the single color 4x6 photograph and brought it close to her eyes.

“Is that who I think it is with you and your sister?!” Colleen said with a sexy little crooked grin on her lips.

He looked. Yup, on the chartered sailboat that second day. The three of them stood on the bow by the sail, the girls on either side of him, topless, his arms wrapped around their waists, all smiles. The bottoms came off later on a private beach.

“I got a week’s medical leave for my wound,” he said, placing the photo back in the envelope. “Liv is a family friend.”

Colleen reached down and pulled her shirt over her head. “Sure! I’m tired and brought lotion.”

He reached behind her and undid her bra as she slipped off her shorts. Trim little dark bush down there.

Within minutes, the curtain was closed, door locked, and the air conditioning unit set to cool. He lay on the bed, the reading light on, naked, ready to cuddle.

“Not so fast. I’m tired of your guy there poking me in the back,” Colleen said, kneeling between his legs, his penis stiff, pointing in the air.

Damn, her boobs looked great, big and round, eraser nipples, swaying as she pumped moisturizing lotion on her hands. First, she applied lotion to her chest, covering herself from neck to her tits. He interlaced his hands behind his head and propped himself against his pillow, watching. His cock grew stiffer.

With soft, creamy hands, dark eyes checking in with Bob, she gripped his 7-inch cock and began to slowly stroke and massage his balls. Fuck! Precum soon mixed with the lotion.

They slept like babies until “Incoming! Incoming! Incoming!” the base’s Giant Voice klaxon announced, “Alert Red.” Incoming rockets or mortars. The warning repeated three times.

Bob didn’t move; the alerts were common. His left hand comfortably nestled between Colleen’s warm boobs. The big airbase attacked almost daily by rockets and mortars.

Colleen turned, eyes open. “Hold me close, I’m not moving.”

Under the sheet, he pulled her closer, her breasts pressed against his chest and kissed her. Her pretty lips demanding.

They were in a reinforced metal box and in no condition to seek shelter for an alarm likely to end soon.

Colleen was snoring again as “Alert Green” was announced. All clear.

Such was life at Balad Air Base, aka ‘Mortaritaville’ in the spring of 2006.

Sunday Morning – Highland Presbyterian Church

His Plan

Kristy wore a new flower-print Easter dress with a scoop neck, the fabric hugging her B-cup chest, accentuating her teenage curves. Her brown hair, curled with side-swept bangs, rested on her shoulders. A silver cross necklace rested against her skin, catching the light as she stood, mouthing the words to the closing hymn, her thoughts elsewhere. Her mom, sisters, and brother sat with her.

Frank was in the second row of chairs across the aisle on her right near the front. Nancy, next to him, statuesque Raquel slowly swaying with the music in a pretty, tight dress. Cassandra up front with the choir. Casual home nudists, like her family. He was her sugar daddy, buying her gifts and giving golf lessons in exchange for her attention. Today, she realized she felt no guilt about trading sex for his lessons and gifts. They were all sinners.

Two rows behind Frank and Nancy sat the Nelsons. New to casual home nudity. In the front row sat Caroline, Becky, and Sarah, looking proper and reverent. Pastor Scott wore a black robe, a gold stole draped around his neck, and sat up front next to the Senior Pastor, while Ben, with his electric guitar, sat with the worship band. Home nudists just like her family. Glancing around, she saw Jackie Jimenez and her daughters sitting in the back, no dad. These were the church families she knew who embraced nudity and unbiblical sex. Her mom said she suspected twenty to thirty percent of the church had experimented with home nudity since the release of the book last Fall. Only Pastor Scott and Nancy knew the real numbers.

Up front, Pastor Scott caught her eye and nodded before returning his attention to the service. They had a history. Her dad wasn’t here, and she felt his absence. She prayed every day for his safe return home. Kristy could use a good talk right now, his wisdom. Last night’s date with Nathan had been great. He took her to a popular pizza place where, while sharing a meat lover’s pizza, they talked about themselves and their summer plans. Friends stopped by several times to say hi to both, leaving with knowing smiles. They both had busy summers planned. Afterwards, they went to see a movie, Scary Movie 4, joining Nathan’s sister and her new boyfriend. She gripped his strong arm throughout the mildly scary comedy. A long hug at the end of the date at her front door. Really, their first or second, if his dad’s birthday party counted as a date.

Scott stood and made a couple of announcements before they sang the Doxology (Praise God from Whom All Blessings Flow), and the Senior Pastor stood to give the benediction.

Kristy felt at peace. The sermon’s focus, as expected, was on Jesus’ Resurrection, with good points about its historical truth, hitting home. Faith, she needed to have faith that He had a plan for Kristy’s life. After the long talks with Grandma Donna, reading Kathi’s deeply personal diary entries, along with Uncle Mark’s sunrise talk, she felt confident in her recent decisions. Still, she felt inner conflict when it came to Nathan; she didn’t have to resolve it yet. Nathan had high standards of right and wrong; his Christian faith was grounded in actions like public service and overseas missions. Yet he was down to earth, so far not judgmental. Their two-year age difference gave him a big edge over boys her age, who mostly annoyed her.

Exiting down the center aisle, she bumped into Raquel, then Frank. Quick hugs from both and promises to meet soon for golf. Kevin stopped to give Olivia a hug and followed her down the aisle, the pastors waiting to greet them at the back before they had coffee and fruit punch. The young kids were having an Easter egg hunt soon, which was always fun to watch.

Last night, returning tired, yet excited from her date, she’d found Kevin in her bed. House rules: pick any bed for the weekend. He’d returned that afternoon from his hunting trip to South Africa, screwed up by time zone changes and long flights; he was a bit of a zombie to talk to.

She cleaned her face, took a shower, and brushed her teeth, then slipped into bed next to him. Maybe it was Kathi’s diary and the revelations about her sexual relationship with her brother Klaus. When Kevin rolled over with a 5-inch boner, she responded not by pushing him away. Instead, she welcomed his sexual need. Expecting rejection, Kevin showed his gratitude by first giving her good oral and trusting her with Jim’s secret and telling her about his new love, Carina. The incestuous sex was pretty good; she let him suck her tits, gave his cock a quick BJ, then rode him hard, letting Kevin cum inside her before they fell asleep in each other’s arms. Great Grandma Kathi was not far from her thoughts as she fucked her brother.

JoAnn enjoyed the church service, though she missed Bob. They finally had a chance for a Skype video call on Friday night. He looked tired and was busy as always. Bob was looking forward to being home soon. She told him about the trip to The Pines, and he promised to take the family there for a weekend when he was home.

Watching Kristy and Kevin walking down the aisle together toward Pastor Scott, JoAnn felt good about life. Last night, she heard the two of them fucking, tempted to peek, the twins giggling next to her, she stayed in bed, listening. This morning, she found them still in bed together and felt bad waking them for church.

Katie Nelson met JoAnn just before they shook hands with the pastors. “I’ll see you at our house soon,” Katie said, then turned to another mother, whose family was also invited to their big house for Easter lunch. An Easter lunch where everyone would be wearing clothes, not the home nudist crowd. That was fine with JoAnn. She’d had enough sex and erotic play this last week to last her for a while. Jim would be up in a few days to do chores; he had a nice cock that more than satisfied her.

Sunday Night – Miller House

Consequences

Sarah stood by the printer in her dad’s office as it spat out two pages of English homework. From a reading list, she chose to read The Outsiders over Easter break and do a book report for extra credit. Her parents’ voices in the kitchen sounded urgent, not the calm whispers Sarah was used to hearing when they shared adult secrets. Someone from the church had sinned, was in trouble, she guessed. Not plotting a surprise birthday party as she hadn’t had one of those since she was ten.

Worship music played quietly on the living room stereo loaded in a 6-pack CD player. Christian artist the David Crowder Band’s latest hit album, A Collision, making it that much harder to hear.

“What should we do? She’s late, Caroline,” her dad Scott’s voice sounded strained.

“Jackie’s daughter, she’s Sarah’s age, Scott!” Caroline said. Her voice rose as metal bowls banged in the kitchen.

Sarah took the pages and stood by the door, out of view. The lack of doors made it easier to listen, but harder to hide. Her age? Alina Jimenez pregnant? Alina was a freshman, like Sarah, and had made the JV tennis team. Was her dad having sex with Alina, or was it someone else?

“I don’t know what we should do. It may be nothing,” Scott said.

Her mom’s response was sharp. “What should I do? She’s your mistake, Scott. Your mess!”

Unintelligible words, drowned out by music and kitchen noise, made Sarah strain to hear.

“I knew you were spending time with Jackie, counseling her. But seriously...”

The upbeat sounds of He is our King got louder in the living room. It was getting harder to eavesdrop on the conversation. The same songs had been played earlier during the Easter lunch her parents had hosted.

A small group, all members of the underground casual home nudity movement at Highland Presbyterian Church. In attendance were Frank and Nancy with their granddaughters, Cassandra and Raquel. Frank, a church elder, was the most senior church member among them. The church’s music director, an attractive, fair-skinned redhead, was a distant cousin of Jennifer Sinclair, along with her husband and two small children. A thirty-something church deacon and his pregnant wife, who was a doctor at the county hospital, were all the local guests. The guest of honor was her dad’s highly respected theology professor from Fuller Seminary in Pasadena, California, who was on sabbatical, finishing another book, rounded out the group.

Sarah chose to join her parents. The book said casual home nudity was about fewer secrets. And this problem could affect all of them.

She smiled, thinking of the afternoon luncheon. Sarah had sensed the awkwardness in the first moments as everyone undressed, eyeing each other. The first time they had all been naked in the same room, and on Easter Sunday no less. The luncheon had broken down along traditional roles, the women preparing the food, fried chicken, a honey-glazed ham, and fixings, as they gossiped. With a baseball game on TV, the men sat in the living room talking about sports, politics, and the ongoing wars. The teenagers served drinks and appetizers before lunch was served on the covered back porch. Hard-ons grew, but after a few apologies, nothing more was said.