Chapter 8

Julia was lying on the couch, reading a book when Bob came into the living room. He had retrieved his leg from the bathroom, and it was installed. He was otherwise naked.

"Thank goodness," he said when he saw her nudity. "My duffle bag was out here, and I couldn't bear to put on my dirty clothes, but I didn't want you to think I was some kind of nudist either." He grinned. "I have to say I'm delighted to find out you are one, though."

Her embarrassment level, at least concerning this man, was almost non-existent any longer. She just smiled, enjoying looking at him naked.

"I'm not a nudist," she said. "I just didn't want to chance waking you up by rooting around in my drawers or closet."

"Elephants could have stampeded through there and I don't think it would have woke me up," he said.

"Are you calling me fat?" she asked, smiling. She was anything but fat.

"You shouldn't lie around naked like that," he said. His cock twitched.

"Oh? Why Not?" she asked.

"Because it will get you raped."

"It's not rape if I agree to it," she said.

They had both assumed it would take a day or two to get comfortable with each other once he arrived. While there was the odd moment of tension, their hunger for each other drove them through those first few days at a relentless pace. That first day, when he found her lying naked on the couch, with a tampon stuffed in her pussy, was an example of a moment of tension, surrounded by hours of lusty happiness.

He had gone to drink in the sight of her body.

"Oh no," he moaned, seeing the string coming from her pussy.

"Oh!" she chirped. "It's not what you think."

"What the heck is it then?" he asked, confused.

While her embarrassment level was very low with this man, was almost non-existent, it wasn't completely null and void. She blushed.

"I was being silly. I just didn't want you to come out of me."

"Are you trying to get pregnant?" he asked, odd and foreign emotions flickering through his brain.

"No!" she yipped. "Not at all. My period ended three days ago. I just loved having you in me, that's all."

"Wow," he said. His cock lifted, now sagging at a 45 degree angle.

"I feel so silly," she moaned.

"Take it out," he said softly.

"All right," she said, rolling to get up.

"No ... right here," he said."

Now she got really red. "I can't," she moaned. "Not with you watching."

"Then I will," he said.

"What?" she said, shocked. Her eyes went round.

"I'll take it out," he said softly. His cock rose to stand horizontal to the floor.

"That's just weird," she breathed.

"It's me you're keeping in," he said. "I'm about to put more of me in you, and I can't do it with that thing in the way."

"You are?" she asked, sounding dazed.

"Oh yeah," he said. He reached and stroked his cock.

In the end she lay, her legs spread, covering her face with both hands as he tenderly pulled the device from her pussy.

"I never saw one of these before," he said, laughter in his voice. "At least not like this."

"Thank goodness for that!" she yipped, peeking between her fingers.

"You shaved," he said, noticing for the first time that all that was left of her pubic hair was a thin line pointing to her pouting pussy lips.

"I hoped you'd like that," she moaned.

"You planned for me to see it?"

"Of course," she said, taking her hands away from her face.

"You don't know how hot that makes me feel," he said, leaning down to suckle a nipple.

The tampon, actually looking almost unused, lay forgotten on the carpet as they mated again.

Because they were like honeymooners, unable to get enough of each other, that first weekend flew by. He had arrived on a Friday and by Monday, when she had to go back to school, he was exhausted again, though pleasantly exhausted. He slept most of the day, which was good because she attacked him when she got home, getting her belly filled before she did anything else.

They went out to dinner that night at Glenn's Cafe, in the historic Hotel Frederick. It was pricey, but his bank account was flush with unspent cash, and he wanted to treat her to something she didn't get to do often.

It was on the way home that they actually talked about the future in any meaningful way for the first time.

"So they believe I'm your sister," she said.

"Yup."

"And you haven't heard from your real sister?"

"I don't even know if she's still alive or not," he said. That made him feel sad.

"And what happens if they find out I'm not your sister?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I'm sure they'd be pissed, but I'm on ninety days convalescent leave. Unless the medical board decides I can go back to duty before that."

She was silent for a minute or more.

"Does that mean you'd go back to Iraq?" Her voice sounded curiously flat.

"I don't know," he said. "It all depends on what kind of duty they say I can do. I know there are guys in Iraq with prosthetics."

"You can't go back." Now her voice sounded on the verge of tears.

"Hey," he said. "My unit is about ready to redeploy back to the states. They'll be here for at least a year. I don't think they'd reassign me. Actually I don't have any idea what's going to happen. They might decide I'm not fit for active duty anymore and kick me out."

"But you said there are men over there with legs like yours."

"Yeah, but not a lot of them. I never actually saw one. I just heard about them."

"Thinking of you leaving makes my stomach hurt," she moaned. She pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store and parked. "I can't drive with tears in my eyes."

"I'm not leaving any time soon," he said. "We have time to make plans."

"What kind of plans?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said, sounding uncomfortable.

Their lovemaking that night was subdued. They lay in each other's arms for an hour after going to bed, just whispering in the dark, each trying to think of something to talk about other than their worries. Eventually she sat up.

"There's something I've been dreaming about doing," she said.

"What?"

"This."

She leaned over and took him into her mouth. He'd only been half hard, but she soon had him raging. Again she deep throated him.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" he gasped.

She pulled up slowly, dragging her tight lips along his shaft and playing with the crown before pulling off and swallowing.

"Bob," she said. "When I found out you were coming, I practiced with him until I could do it."

"Man," he said.

She went back down on him, making it clear she was trying to get a mouthful.

She did, and swallowed it happily.

Then he returned the favor, until he had rejuvenated, at which point he eased into her and rode her almost gently to an orgasm. While she whined, he seeded her, again in that almost lazy way he had discovered of letting his semen flow without even getting winded.

Claudia had sometimes felt like she lived in a third world country. Arkansas seemed so remote to her when she first moved there with her new husband, Josh Strangline. The internet had helped, because it was her window into the rest of the world, outside the Ozark Mountains that surrounded her with thick trees and winding roads. Moving to Kansas City had helped, but now there was the opposite problem. Traffic was so thick and fast that she was afraid to drive in it. Josh had no trouble, but if she had to go anywhere farther than a few miles she was sure she'd be lost, never to be found again. It felt safe to stay in her house and take care of little Anthony, but she had other important things to do too.

She still had that trapped feeling as she tried to find out where her brother was. She had the number of his unit in Kansas, but when she called there, they just told her the unit was still deployed, and would be for another month. They had phone numbers for his company, in Iraq, but they were strange numbers, that didn't make any sense to her, having too many digits and nothing that looked like an area code.

But she had tried everything else she could think of, so finally she tried calling one of those numbers.

She punched in the seventeen digits and waited for nothing to happen. It was almost a shock when a perfectly normal whirring sound announced that the phone on the other end was ringing.

"Headquarters, Big Red One, Sergeant Johnson, how may I help you sir or ma'am?" came a perfectly normal voice on the phone.

Shocked, Claudia almost lost her voice. She couldn't believe she was talking to someone ten thousand miles away.

"Is this Iraq?" she gasped.

"All day long, Ma'am, for as long as I can remember it seems like," said the voice. "This is an official line."

"I'm trying to find my brother," she said.

"Ma'am this line is for official use only," said the man. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to-"

"Don't you dare fucking hang up on me!" yelled Claudia. "My brother is assigned to your unit and I'm his next of kin and I haven't heard from him in over five fucking months and now my letters are being returned and I want to know where he is this fucking minute!"

Sergeant Johnson pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it. Nobody had talked to him like that for as long as he could remember. She was obviously worried. That didn't penetrate his shell of protection, raised when the wheels of his transport touched down in Iraq and fastidiously kept raised until he could leave this God forsaken land. What got to him was the fact that she was also obviously a civilian. He hadn't talked to a real live civilian in almost a year, not counting his mother, during the infrequent hurried phone call.

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