by Matt Troy
“It’s all right,” he said, quickly but softly. “It’s all right, Gomari, I am not the terrorist. I am the man who saved you from him.
“It is as he says, child,” the old man said to his daughter. Gomari relaxed slowly and told Kelly to hide.
“I can’t Gomari I did not come all the way down here to hide.”
“All right,” she said, touching his arm “I will not hide either. Let us both get this job done. I know where they are hiding, not a big group only about twelve of them left now.” She said.
They eased through the foliage approaching the lookout with caution. Kelly armed my little crossbow once again slipped close to the lookout, he was guarding while the rest were sleeping so sure that nobody would dare to intrude their hideout. Kelly was just twelve feet from his man, he aimed for a quick kill; He wanted the guard dead without a noise. He released the arrow and it buried itself on his throat and rolled over dead with a small gargle, He scanned the area and counted ten terrorists fast asleep, Kelly lobbed the grenades at the sleeping terrorists and saw them getting blown to smithereens, three of them were not dead but bleeding profusely and in shock, he slipped his AK47 and mowed them before they could gather their wits.
With the whole lot dead Kelly retreated slowly with Gomari back towards her house. As they were making their way the moon came out and gave them enough light to see each other. Each time he neared her on the trail, she lowered the bodice of her blouse to expose more of her ample breasts. She bumped against his hips with her wide hips. As they neared exhaustion, he found a narrow trail and heard the flow of water beyond a grove of shrubs.
Gomari excused herself and went into the shrubs, after a while he heard a low humming of a tune. It was Gomari. Her sweet, clear voice rose on the moonlit jungle air. Kelly wondered if she knew that he was near, listening, perhaps even peeking at her in the stream. He had seen this girl under extremely vicious circumstances. Seeing her in the nude here, in the stream, spurred him to foolish and damning actions. She had bathed in the stream and was resting on the bank.
Gomari continued the game of playing woman and beckoned him to her side, giving him the full benefit of her womanly fullness. Gomari, whose body had been tense with fear, sagged against him. He glanced at her and her eyes were full of love. The girl was really turning him on. She had overcome her aversion to the raping and began to touch him, subtly in the moonlight. She was gazing at him, her eyes bright and clear, her lips slightly parted, her bosom heaving with passion. She was crying as she lunged into his arms and began to shower his face, grizzly now with several days’ growth of beard, with sweet, wet kisses.
Kelly found his arms going around her back, caressing the soft, sweet skin. His hand went down to her gently-rising buttocks and he felt the erection building magnificently at his middle.
“Gomari do you know what you are doing?”
She shushed him with her slender finger across his lips.
“I know,” she said. “No talk. Only love.”
Days of frustration and abstinence and temptation had built up a tremendous drive inside him. His erection was more than an erection. It was a budding, blossoming, flowering instrument of sex and love and lust. Slowly he shed his camouflage dress and sat by her side naked.
Gomari found the hardness and enclosed it with her hands. There were no more thoughts about what would happen to her. She stroked him, gently, very gently squeezing his balls and then releasing. Thinking of them as stress balls, she asked him about how he want her to hold his cock. The point of this exercise was to get him as hot as possible before she used her mouth. The more excited he was, the less time oral sex will take, and if she felt that he was the type to go all night in other positions, she was going to want this to carry on till morning.
The tip of the penis and the base of the shaft were the two spots that she concentrated on. She used her hand. Letting her fingertips nibble for him at first. A very light touch, almost floating above the skin, was very tantric and exciting. She took his hand and guided it to her clit; she got him even more excited. When she was really ready to use her mouth, the "69" position was the best to start with. Kelly was getting excited, she was getting relaxed, and having him on top in the sixty nine position was by far the most comfortable for having that much cock in her throat. The angles of her throat and his penis matched much better in this position.
Having him on top made the blowjob a little hard to control, so after a while they rolled over and she stayed on top of him and let him have a good lick and suck of her wet clit. He spread her legs wide and had her labia, too, spread with his hands and tongue fucked her.
Gomari experienced repeated orgasms. The needs of the flesh and of the soul were so intense, so ready, for each of them that they shut out the past and plunged helter-skelter into the present. After some time they switched positions and he had her tits in his mouth and sucking her pert little boobs giving little nips on her erect nipples. She seemed to like it; Kelly raised up and gazed at her erect, ripe breasts that had tantalized him in her loose blouse. He kissed the nipples once again, tenderly, then with more purpose. He sucked and she arched her back and raised her pubis once again to him.
Kelly laid his hardness along the mound and gently massaged until she let out a moan and bit his ear. “
“Enough gentleness,” she said, gasping, chewing on his ear. “Take me now and let me know the pleasure of losing my virginity to one I love…. Oh, sir, love me for now, for now only.”
When Kelly entered her, she was ready, she climaxed almost instantly and he thought it was over. She took a few seconds of respite and then the passion grew in her to a newer and higher level. She swallowed him up, rising and falling, plunging and withdrawing. She climaxed three more times before it finally happened to him. He had been holding back, savoring it, wanting it to go on forever. She responded by climaxing again she had squirted her juices over and over and her thighs were dripping with her clitoral juices.
He had always envied women with that capacity, but he wouldn’t have traded that one gigantic climax for all the little ones in the world. Kelly ejaculated his sperm into her in jets and felt her convulse and spent, sated they lay sweating, Gomari’s arm lay across his now naked chest.
“You will think me strange,” she finally said, “but I did this as a gesture of farewell.” She said and kissed him hard on his lips.
With his mission accomplished, Kelly wondered. After three months, she still fought. Her hatreds were gestating like laboratory cultures.
Why didn’t the old man get a gun and shoot the next bastard who came to entertain his daughter? Threats, that’s why. A roll in the sack would be the least the girl could expect if the old man fought back.
The visits may not have been under the sanction of Selva, but he had been told of them, had said nothing. He needed the rebels, he didn’t need that old farm couple and their lovely daughter.
KILL OR BE KILLED
Thirst for Vengeance.
Well, it was time for a few changes.
If Selva, the petty war lord would not come from his jungle retreat to wage war with him, He would take war to him. His brand of war, on his terms.
Terrorists and rebels and men of Selva have always given him a royal pain in the ass.
The rebel’s name was Vasu and it was not a pleasure killing him. Killing is never a pleasure, except for the hopelessly insane, even under extreme conditions when your life is threatened. Kelly had never killed without remorse; He hoped to God He’d never do.
Ten minutes later, Kelly retrieved his knapsack hidden near the farm. Leaving his portable radio there, Gomari and he set out on foot in the darkness heading along narrow trails in the inky blackness of the jungle night. The girl no longer cried but she was still terrified…. And a part of it was fear of me. Though they had made love a few minutes earlier. Kelly made certain not to touch her as they moved through the night. A few times, they accidentally bumped together and she recoiled as though hw was a snak
e. It was not the happiest of situations.
An hour after they left the house, Gomari came to a stop on a ledge high above the valley. She stopped without warning and Kelly ran smack into her warm supple body. She didn’t recoil. He felt her finger against his lip and heard her low shushing sound.
“Just ahead,” she said in a melodic accent that was surprisingly soft in view of her earlier screeching and carrying on. “Is an open place where we should be able to see the main encampment. We must be careful not to be seen by them.”
They moved slowly forward and, sure enough, entered an open area where they had a clear view of the valley below; clear, that is, except for the darkness that lay on the land like a black velvet curtain.
In the murky distance, Kelly could make out silhouettes of darkened thatched houses, of trees, of the meandering river that ran down from the mountain. There were few lights in the houses. Since the rebels had come, most of the villagers had imposed a kind of curfew on themselves, afraid to venture out, afraid even letting the pillaging rebels know that they were alive.
Gomari tugged at his sleeve ( the dead rebel’s sleeve, actually which Kelly had put on) and brought him nearer the sharp edge of the ledge.
“To the left,” she said, “where you see the glow of light.”
Kelly leaned forward and saw the glow, then what was causing it. Tucked away in a little valley off the main valley were dozens of campfires. They stretched up the narrow hollow and around the base of the mountain, like an electric necklace around an ebony neck. It was the thirty or forty rebels, guarding the advance to the main trail.
In that moment, Kelly gave thanks to the intuitive reasoning that had put him on the trail of the rebel mercenary. If he hadn’t followed him, he wouldn’t have found the old man’s family and this girl. Without the girl, he’d never have found this safe trail up the mountain. Without this safe trail, He would have stumbled headlong into that encampment of rebels and would have been disemboweled and fed to the pigs.
“Beyond that encampment,” Gomari said in that same soft tuneful voice, “is the encampment of the rebel chief Selva. None of us dare to go near either encampments, but I have watched from this point. I’m certain Anand, my brother, is down there with the other rebels.
“But he’s so close to home,” Kelly said. “Why wouldn’t he break away and come back to his family?”
He could only guess at the expression on her face. He knew she was staring at him as though He were the dumbest man who ever lived.
“Deserters are shot,” she said. “So are their families, including cousins and those who are married into the families.”
“Loving bunch,” he muttered. “Okay, let’s get you to your cousin’s house, then I’m coming back here to wait for daylight.”
“Why would you do that? You can stay with my cousin as well.”
“I can’t stay anywhere, Gomari. I didn’t come all the way down here to hide.”
“All right,” she said, touching his arm again. He was starting to like that. “I will not hide either. Let us both wait for daylight.”
There was no time to explain to her that he planned to figure out the best way to infiltrate that rebel encampment, or that she would only be in the way of his progress. They were hours away from her cousin’s house, considering how long it had taken them to reach this point from her parent’s farm. He took her arm and pulled her away from the ledge. She didn’t recoil from his touch.
“We’ll do it my way,” he said. “And that means getting you to safety and me coming back here alone.”
“Everybody bosses the villagers,” she said almost sullenly. Then, she sighed. In the mellow glow from the rebel campfires. He could have sworn that he saw a smile on her face. This time, the smile said, she didn’t mind being bossed by an outsider.
As they stood on the dusty road leading to the hut where Gomari would hide, she moved close to him. Her breath smelled of orange blossoms and he wondered how she had managed that, considering the lack of toothbrushes and toothpaste in her parents’ home. She rummaged in a pocket and pressed a gold chain and locket into his hand.
“Anand gave this to me on my eighteenth birthday.” She said, “Give it to him and he will know that you are our friend.”
“Maybe not,” he said, always the doubting Thomas. “He might think I stole it from you. Or took it by force.”
“No,” she said. “Before we left my parents’ house I folded a note into the locket.”
He thought about kissing her goodbye then, but discarded the idea. There is such a thing as pushing your luck. Even as he was thinking this, she stood on tiptoe, found his face in the darkness and kissed him soundly and sweetly on the lips.
Then, like a wraith or a shadow, she was gone and he stood like an adolescent lover on the dirt road following her body with his imagination. It was with great reluctance that he turned to retrace his steps to the ledge above the rebel encampment.
Light was just beginning to filter down on the mountains when he made it back to the lookout point Gomari had shown him. He snuggled close to the ground and watched the encampment as dawn increased. When there was sufficient light, he took his binoculars from his knapsack, studied the layout of the rebel detachment and could find no indications of which group was bivouacked where.
Kelly would do everything possible to avoid that group: even if he could pass as the dead rebel, He had no intentions of being shot for desertion. The dead rebel was already several hours AWOL.
But the uniform and his use of Tamil would at least get him into the encampment without drawing undue suspicion. After that, he should have no trouble finding precisely where the cream of the lot were encamped, no trouble walking there to make discreet enquiries about Anand. Or so he thought.
He crossed the river and neared the edge of the camp. Campfires that had warmed them at night had gone out: new ones were being built to cook the morning meal. Only the sleepy guards and the cooks were up and about. Kelly picked out a particularly sleepy-looking guard who was slouched against a tree.
“Halt!” the guard said as Kelly approached. He came to attention himself, more or less.
Kelly put on his most sheepish grin, honed up a slurred, drunken Tamil, and told the guard that he was Sgt. Ramu, returning from a marvelous night with a local talent on one of the peasant farms. He said he was trying to get to his group before muster and would appreciate it if he didn’t make a fuss and get him in difficulty with his leader.
He grinned back his understanding and passed him on without missing a yawn. He was in.
Kelly stepped brazenly up to the three wiry cooks who were working at a primitive table, chopping up chicken and vegetables and tossing them helter skelter into a huge black pot over a blazing fire, with a few well-chosen lies, some sly winks and comments about the drawing power of the local girls, he managed to cadge food. The first lie concerned his alleged special mission from his immediate leader. The cooks were mightily impressed with his status, so he ate well, crouched against a tree where he kept a wary eye on the cooks.
“Attention!” It was a sharp command, sharply given. He looked up into the face of a man who had obviously done brutal things in his approximately thirty-five years of existence on earth.
Kelly stood and, even though He’s a tall man well over six feet, he found himself looking up at the rough, scarred, pock marked face of the officer. From his insignia. He guessed him to be Major Nathan. And he demanded his name and the name of his commander.
“Sergeant Ramu,” He responded swiftly. Standing at attention. “My command captain Seelan, has sent me from the encampment to warn that a top army commando may have infiltrated his encampment.
The major studied him for a moment, trying to satisfy himself if he were an imposter, or merely stupid. He had tried to convey the idea of stupidity, he had obviously succeeded.
“What is Seelan doing with the men?” the major asked. “He belongs with his group right down the mountain there.
&nb
sp; “He was sent with a few of us to investigate some unrest among the conscripted peasants.” He said quickly, counting on the story about Anand to be a common one.
“All right,” he said finally. “Tell Captain Seelan that his message has been delivered. We know there’s an army commando. You better get back to your post now.
Kelly moved away, swiftly, wanting to put a lot of distance between him and the strong, surly and obviously vicious major.
Kelly made a hasty retreat to the other side of the encampment where the stockade was where Anand was kept a prisoner.
On his way he happened to come across another rebel who seemed to spell trouble. As he stood, he pressed the trigger release on his silenced gun and the Rambo knife slid easily into his hand. But the rebel kept his rifle aimed at his throat and he had no chance to charge him. They moved through the fake opening in the jungle wall. Once that opening was closed, he knew his goose would be cooked.
The bearded rebel lowered the rifle and reached for a handle to roll the intricate gate back into place. It was his moment. He stepped in close, knocked the rifle aside and, before the man could call out, he rammed the knife into his throat, twisted, gouged and pulled sharply upward. He died instantly and his remorse was minimal.
He pushed the opening aside again, dragged the rebel’s body through the back down the trail. He pressed his way into the jungle wall beside the trail dropped the dead body in a thicket and arranged the undergrowth so that it didn’t look as though it had been disturbed in a hundred years.
Once inside the compound, though, with the camouflaged gate back in place, he had no idea where to go, no idea how many more rebels were between him and the stockade where Anand was awaiting execution. Once again, he would have to follow his own nose and hope that it didn’t lead him through minefields or up against men like the major.
