Chapter 5

Olaf Jensen waited impatiently for over an hour, hoping Kye would come back so that he could question him further about the "American dollie" who he swore had sucked him. In the Asian boy's absence, the oafish teenager had given it almost undivided thought, until finally he was convinced that Kye had told him the truth! Except, he knew that this newcomer to the building had not been anyplace to meet a local girl... which meant that whoever he was referring to lived right there! And the only girl he was most apt to have been that close to in just three days was... was Mrs. Keller!

Jesus Christ! That beautiful, mind-blowing job, with those terrific tits and crazy tight ass going down on a little fink like Kye was almost impossible to imagine! Even to think of her spreading those gorgeous long legs to get fucked seemed sacreligiously unbelievable to Olaf, though he knew the Captain damn sure did it when he was home, but it was still beyond anything he could picture in his mind. Shit, she was just too beautiful, like something you simply kept around to look at... , almost as if she were above anything to do with sex. But who in hell else was that scrawny little bastard talking about if not her?

The thinking about it alone was enough to stir his loins inside the faded, tight jeans, a rush of blood surging through the long length of his penis to arouse it toward hardness. He worked on, but with increasing glances over the brick wall down the street in the direction Kye had taken. Shit, he had to know more, he suddenly decided, picking up his T-shirt and slipping it over his head as he walked toward the gate. He'd even chance his old man getting up-tight if he found him gone, but that wasn't likely this time of day. He was soused on his beer and probably sleeping in front of the glaring TV. The old bastard... the way he'd ridden him ever since he'd gotten busted for having a couple of joints on him. You'd think the old fart was some sort of model to pattern one's self after! Hell, he hadn't been worth a goddamn since his mom died... and those frigging witches he picked up to bring home in the wee hours of the morning...

Kye probably went to the park, Olaf thought, stretching out his long, powerful legs in a quickened gait. Maybe he was screwy, but he really believed the little character, and after logically putting two and two together, who the fuck else was he talking about but Mrs. Keller... ?

Kye was feeding squirrels in the park from a bag of peanuts when Olaf found him, having decided as he walked, to use every ounce of finesse he could muster with the younger, foreign boy. He sat down gently beside him so as not to scare the tamed little animals away, aware that his new acquaintance was intrigued by the way they were accepting the nuts from his extended hand.

"You see, Olaf!" Kye explained in a whisper. "They're not afraid of me! They eat right out of my hand! Is not that wonderful? In my country, a squirrel, should you actually see one, is frightened to death! The war has destroyed all the warm, God-given things!"

"Yeah... Sometimes, I come down here and feed 'em, too," the older boy lied.

"You do? Oh, that's nice! Little animals make me feel good inside!" Kye said with his usual exuberance. "You see? I am not angry anymore, and I was when I left you!"

Olaf nodded his blond head, studying the other with his small blue eyes. "I'm sorry about that, Kye... but what you were saying about getting sucked... well..."

"It is all right. I understand, Olaf... but you must believe that I would not lie to you."

"Oh sure! I believe that!" the big teenager emphatically implied. "But you know, you've only been here a few days, and then saying it was an American dollie... well..."

"It is true! And it happened last night, in fact... !" Kye said without thinking and catching himself too late.

"Last night? I saw you when you went in last night, Kye," Olaf immediately picked up, realizing he had his opening. "The only girl you were with was Captain Keller's wife! Now... how do you explain that, guy?"

Kye swallowed tightly. A squirrel captured a peanut from his hand and ran off. Something of a vacant nature swelled in his lean belly. He remember his own thoughts about wondering if Captain Mark would kill him should he know what had happened, and how he had intended to say nothing so that she would do it again... !

"Come on, Kye, you're not trying to make out that a beautiful girl like Mrs. Keller would ever suck your prick, are you?" Olaf grinningly questioned, unable to play his finesse game, or hide his mounting excitement as his heavy, boyish cock stiffened uncontrollably stiffened inside his jeans at the mere thought. "Sonofabitch, there you go again, kid, handing me all that shit...

"Is not shit! I told you that before!" Kye angrily spat, taking the rest of the peanuts and strewing them onto the ground. "Kye does not be! And Mrs. Dianne thinks much of me, too!"

"But not enough to suck your puny cock, buddy-boy... !"

"Yes! Yes, she does and she did! Last night!"

"I don't believe it!"

"She did, almighty goddamn, she did! How much you want to bet, Joe?" Kye spat at him, irresistibly throwing his Saigon street jargon at the other's taunting face.

"Prove it! Make her do it again... then I'll believe it!" Olaf teased, getting to his knees. "Let's see you make her do it again, Kye boy, if you ain't throwing out that Vietnamese shit of yours... !"

"All right, I will!"

"When?"

"Tonight! You come by my window and watch! "

"How? The venetian blinds are always closed!"

"I'll fix them! You'll see that Kye does not lie! Then you will apologize!"

"You bet! I'll gladly apologize, Kye... but you've got to prove it first...

Captain Mark Keller caught a bus from March Air Force Base into the nearest four-corners of Edgemont and chose a little tavern where beer was the strongest drink, perching himself on a stool at the corner of a little patronized bar. The handsome, gray-eyed officer wanted nothing except privacy to think this night. He decided he'd chosen the right place. A jukebox whined out country music and a pair of rolled-up shirt-sleeved, burly men wearing hard, construction hats played a limited game of pool on a special, small table in the center of the room. There were no females. Mark sighed and gulped at the cold froth of his beer.

What the hell was he going to do? Even if Kye and Sergeant were allowed to stay, and it was beginning to look better for them. Could he re-adapt himself... ever in God's world?... after the life he had been leading?... the sensual world he'd come to know? Christ, he surely didn't want to hurt Dianne! The truth was, he loved her so much that it did hurt! But... ! Yeah, that was it... all the buts! And how in Christ name did he get over those buts... only to find himself back in a world that would no longer do it for him!

And what the hell was he going to do for a living once he was shed of this uniform? Christ, he just couldn't go back to the hum-drum of drafting, not after the wild, easy life and kind of money he'd been making. On the other hand, operating a string of whores and using boys for pimps wasn't exactly looked upon as being an acceptable profession in the good old U. S. of A. either. Yeah, he'd made a bundle, all of it nicely tucked in his gear at the base, and more than enough to set him up soundly in some legitimate business or other... but what? And how was he about to explain where he'd come by a hundred-grand to Dianne when he was supposed to have been fighting a police action for his country?