Big Gun

by Dani Stowe

  BIG GUN

  Boom No. 1

  of

  AMERICAN BADASS

  A novella by

  DANI STOWE

  DaniStowe.com

  ABA, Spotify Playlist

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  WARNING: This book contains material that may not be suitable for all readers due to its sexual content, graphic imagery, and some violence. It has been formatted to fit mature minds.

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  Edited by Kim Burger

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  All rights reserved © 2017 by Dani Stowe. This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

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  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author. This e-book may also not be re-sold, transferred, or given to other people without written permission of the author.

  Chapter 1

  This story is told in its entirety by

  Gunner

  “You like my big gun in your tight little pussy hole, don’t you, Camilla?”

  My forty-year-old, dark brown eyed half Latina, half Caucasian cougar moans under me on the bed as I reach down to pull her knee up high over my shoulder so I can dig myself in deeper.

  She bites her lower lip as the skin between her brows wrinkles and she squeezes her eyes shut. Some guys don’t like that—when his girl turns her head away, but I do. I like it when Camilla is squeezing her face so tight she can’t stand it because her pussy gets tight, too.

  I whisper in her ear again. “You like it when I pound you like that, don’t you? You like my young gun inside you. Are you gonna come on my cock, Camilla?”

  Camilla moans again and I pull out.

  My gorgeous long-haired brunette opens her wide eyes with disappointment, but I grab at her waist and roll her over to the side so she’s flat on her stomach. I pull at her hips so her ass is high in the air and by God, if I have to go to war and fuck shit up to keep an ass like this safe at home, I’ll fucking do it.

  I look at Camilla’s ass—so round, so plump, and I grab both naturally tan cheeks as I slide my cock into her pussy. She’s so fucking tiny. Camilla is the tiniest little forty-year-old I’ve ever met at only four feet ten inches tall, but she’s got a full-bodied ass.

  She won’t let me stick my dick between her ass cheeks yet, but I have every intention of sticking around long enough to make that happen. One day, I’m going to stick my cock in her asshole until she comes and she’ll regret having waited so long to go without my gun hittin’ that target.

  The thought makes me so Goddamn horny, I pound her hard.

  Camilla reaches up to the headboard, like she’s trying to get away and I grab her hair and pull it back. I smack her ass; it makes her yelp and a red imprint of my hand is like a target on her ass. I’m sure my cougar is going to scold me for that later, but right now, I’ll take whatever consequences come my way. I smack her ass again.

  “Ow! Damn it, Gunner! Not so rough,” she whines.

  Now, I feel bad, because I do love her.

  Fuck, I love her.

  I pause for a second and bend down to kiss the small of her back. “I’m sorry,” I say and feel her try to ease back on to me so my cock gets deeper.

  I don’t understand it. Whenever I smack her like that she whines about it, yet she gets so wet, it’s like her body is begging for more.

  I decide to fuck her slowly. I keep a steady pace with long strokes for a time. She’s so damn wet and I really want to just smack her ass again. Instead, I grab her hips and slide myself in and out so she can feel the full friction of my shaft.

  Camilla starts up with a nonstop, high-pitched hum and it makes me want to come. I pound her pussy so hard, her ass jiggles in every direction as the bed moves with it.

  She grabs a hold of the headboard once more, but I fight to pull her closer. She’s not getting away that easily--and fuck, yes! I let loose inside of her and she’s still trying to pull away, but I keep her tiny body exactly where I need it to be as I come and she screams.

  I slump as I finish and I watch her crawl away.

  This is the part I hate.

  It’s the part when Camilla always crawls away. She doesn’t want to cuddle or be held like most chicks. She doesn’t want to talk or be romantic.

  I lay on my back on her bed covered with a dozen pillows; I prop a few under my head so I can watch her get dressed. She twists her long, dark brown hair like she always does and clamps it with a clip so it’s pinned tight to her head. She pulls up her white cotton panties that hang low below her cute naval and slips on her sports bra.

  Nine months ago, I was okay with this. Nine months ago, I was fine with the lack of intimacy after we’d fuck, but lately I’m not feeling so fine about it.

  “Hey, come here,” I tell my cougar.

  “What?” she asks like she’s surprised as she puts on her white tank top.

  “Come get in bed with me,” I say.

  “I can’t do it again, Gunner. I had to do group PT this morning and all that physical training followed by two long meetings—I’m exhausted.”

  “I didn’t say I wanted to have sex again. I’m saying lie down with me.” I lean up to my side and throw some of her pillows off the bed to make more room and then pat the empty spot. “Come on,” I smile. I know she can’t resist my smile. There’s not a cougar, a fox, or a kitten that can resist it.

  But she does.

  She giggles to herself in amusement and throws on an “ARMY” gray shirt plus a pair of black, army issued exercise shorts and walks out of the room.

  I look down at my naked body. Every fucking chick on the planet wants this body. I can have any chick I want. I work out like I’m a fucking Spartan. My abs are tight, my guns are rock solid; I look like a model because I was a model and I only joined the army a year later than I’d planned to so I could piss off my older brother. To top it all off, I’m hung like a Goddamn racehorse.

  I roll off the bed and pull up my tight-fitting black boxers. I head into Camilla’s bathroom and the classy scent of her lingering perfume gets me hard. I look in the mirror and see my dick poking out of my fly in full salute.

  I could do her again.

  I turn on the faucet and splash water on my face. Moving closer to my reflection in the mirror, I stare into my hazel-brown eyes. “This woman doesn’t give a shit about you, man. She’s twice your age, she’s hardly willing to do any of the stuff you want to do in bed, and she treats you exactly how an officer treats a lower ranking enlisted soldier—like you’re a mindless grunt without enough complexity to render you intelligent or having any emotion.”

  “You know that’s not true,” Camilla says.

  She’s a sneaky little cougar.

  I get my hands wet and run my fingers through my brown hair to smooth it out. I’m going to need a haircut soon or I’ll get in trouble for not being within regulations, but Camilla likes it a little longer than I’m allowed.

  “How much of what I said did you just hear?” I ask.

  “Enough to know how poorly you think about the both of us.”

  Here it comes—one of her know-it-all lectures.

  “You know how much I love that you come here, Gunner,” she says. “I’ve already told you how smart I think you are and how much potential you have.”

  She has said those things to me before.

  She chuckles, “And you know why I can’t do all the things you want.”

  I grab one of her fluffy pink towels and put my face in it. I’m smiling, but I don’t want her to see. So, I swallow my smile and
turn, showing her a more serious face. “No, I don’t know why. How about you tell me why I can’t poke you in the ass?” I ask.

  “Because!” she whines.

  “Because what?” I ask her and walk closer.

  “You know why, Gunner,” she smiles as she takes a step back.

  Now I can’t hold it in; I smile as I wrap my hands around her tiny Latina waist. “Say it,” I warn, “or I’m going to stick it exactly where you don’t want it.”

  She laughs and tries to remove herself from my grip as she tries to get away, but I grab her, throw her on the bed, and tickle her.

  “Say it!” I tell her again.

  “Because!” she cries.

  “Because what?”

  “Because you’re too big!”

  It’s true. It’s why she’s always trying to get away. My cock is way too big for her tight little pussy. I hate to admit the fact it turns me on that I hurt her a little bit every time we fuck.

  I stop tickling her and trap her under me. We make eye contact and she stops laughing as I tilt my head down to kiss her. I want to fuck her again. I want to fuck her with my big cock until she hurts. I love her, but I know she doesn’t feel the same way about me and it makes me hurt.

  I wedge my hard cock between her thighs and she tries to push me off.

  “I can’t do it again, Gunner. I’m serious,” she whines. “I’m exhausted. The meetings were back to back and I haven’t eaten a thing today.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I scoff as she tries to wiggle her way out from under me.

  I don’t understand it. She’s not like most women and I know it’s not because of her age. My parents, my adopted parents, cuddled each other all the time.

  “C’mon,” I say and I get up and reach my hand out to her with a smile. “I’ll take you out to dinner.”

  “You know we can’t do that,” she says. “You know we can’t be seen in public together.”

  I scratch my head. “I thought you said you’re retiring from the Army. You said you were dropping your retirement paperwork this week.”

  “I am, but that doesn’t mean I should tell everybody about the fact I’m a forty-year old Lieutenant Colonel whose been sleeping with an enlisted twenty-one year old specialist who is also my driver. Plus, I’m your Battalion Commander! That type of gossip will make headlines in the nationwide Army news. I’ll get kicked out right before I’m about to get all the benefits I worked so hard for for the last twenty-two years. I might even go to jail.”

  I bite my lip and shake my head. I hate this shit.

  “They’re not going to put you in jail,” I say, although I’m not a hundred percent sure. I guess we shouldn’t risk it. She is retiring in a few months and I can take her to dinner then. “How about I pick us up something to eat and bring it back? I’ll get us a movie.”

  “I have some PowerPoint slides that need reviewing,” she says and I know what’s coming next. “Maybe you should go home.”

  Fuck!

  I don’t know why I do this to myself! I hate it when she kicks me out, especially right after we’ve made love. Maybe to her it really is just a fuck. Now I wish I’d smacked her ass a lot harder earlier.

  “Fine,” I say and pick up my camouflage uniform off the floor.

  “Gunner, please don’t be upset,” Camilla says, and we are right back in our usual cycle—the part that ends with her thinking she knows better. “There’s just so much I wish you understood,” she whines. “There’s so much out there for you. You have so much potential.”

  “Nah, I get it,” I huff and get my clothes on. “We’ve had this conversation before, Camilla. It really comes down to you thinking I’m too young for you or you’re too old for me. I just wish you’d admit it.”

  “I won’t admit it because there’s more to it than that, Gunner,” she whines. “There are other factors, too.”

  “Like what?” I snap. I’m so pissed, I struggle to get my shirt tucked in.

  “Well,” she says tilting her head like she’s trying to compose some lame-ass excuse, which she hasn’t already given though we’ve been through this song and dance.

  “I don’t want to hear it,” I say and walk out of her bedroom door.

  As I hustle down the stairs and head to her front door, I feel like choking myself. I don’t know how many times I’ve left feeling like this, like some dumb kid who can’t get enough cookies.

  I storm through her front door and get in the government-issued green Ford Explorer parked in front and look up at her house—the huge-ass house she had built with a stone exterior, two turrets with a conical roof topped with wooden shingles, and a river rock path that winds around the exterior. It looks like a Goddamn castle. It’s got five bedrooms, three bathrooms, two dining areas, a pool, and a hot tub.

  But no one ever comes here. No one but me.

  One of the rooms has pink walls with matching curtains and another room is decorated with a sea theme in blue and green. Plus, they all have beds. It’s like she’s been planning to start a family, but she’s never given anyone a chance to walk her down the aisle. I figure she hasn’t found enough singing birds and squirrels just yet to be a part of her fairytale.

  I consider the fact it might be my fault. She wants to start a family, but she’s got me around—her puppy. When she meets the right guy, who’s closer to her age, she’ll have to send me back to the pound.

  I think about the first time we made love. She was so desperate for it—for me. It was like she never had a dog before and she couldn’t get enough of her cute little puppy. And when she saw my cock and realized all the tricks I could do along with the rest of what I had, she wanted to keep me. But I’m still a little lost dog to her.

  I punch the steering wheel. I punch it again and again until my knuckles hurt. I don’t know why I go on like this, but it makes me feel better for some odd reason.

  I just wanted to take her out to dinner.

  I’d like to be more than a grunt, more than a dog, and not so much a kid in her mind. I don’t know why I like her so much. Perhaps she’s constantly reminding me of my need to remind her I’m human and not just another grunt with a cock.

  I put the Explorer in reverse, turn around, and head down the long, dirt private road she named Fairytale Lane that seems to go on for miles.

  Camilla treats me like shit, but I still hate leaving her in that big house alone and so isolated. I don’t care if she’s been shooting guns for longer than I have or that she’s been to foreign countries in hostile areas. Her history says she’s tough for a tiny thing and that she doesn’t need me—not to protect her and not to defend her or console her from anything, but somewhere in my heart I know she does.

  Chapter 2

  “So, what are you doing tonight?” asks Specialist Samantha Buckler walking into our company building as her kid gets in my lap.

  Buckler is another grunt among the majority of the lower ranking enlisted class of soldiers in the army, like me. I can’t stand Buckler, but I like her kid. They don’t look much alike. In truth, Buckler looks like she could’ve been a model, like me. She’s still gorgeous in her camouflage Army-issued uniform with her hair pinned in a bun to the back. She’s tall, thin, and blonde with enormous blue eyes, the same as her son.

  Buckler is taller than most male soldiers and she works out a lot. She’s committed to the Army; I’m sure one of the reasons she volunteered to sign up was for the same reasons I did—raised in the military. It’s a part of our families’ history. Although, I believe she also did it to piss someone off, most likely her father.

  Since I’ve known her, Buckler has talked endlessly about how harsh her dad, a former Marine commander, could be. Buckler got knocked up after she joined the Army, but she chose to stay in as a soldier and a single mom. I don’t know how she does it—working and taking care of the cute kid. We have long hours and there’s no way she can do it alone; her dad moved across several states to live near the base to help her out and
be near his grandson. I don’t know what happened to Buckler’s mother, but I know she’s not around to help, though I’d never ask. I do find it ironic Buckler has found a way to keep her father under her own command.

  I feel sorry for the guy who gets involved with Buckler. She’s hot, but being with Buckler would be worse than being with Camilla. Camilla shuts people out, but Buckler would torture a guy by keeping him under lock and key.

  “Vroom!” says Buckler’s kid as he pushes his red Hot Wheels convertible across my desk. I think the kid is three or four years old. His hair is so bright orange I have no doubt he’ll be teased as Carrot Top when he gets to grade school.

  Nobody here likes kids—except me. I know what it’s like to be without parents and I hope Buckler finds someone to eventually be a father to her son. I was lucky enough to find parents when I had none. I guess Buckler didn’t like the kid’s biological father because she’s never mentioned a word about him. My biological drug-addicted parents didn’t like me either; they beat me when I was small and I was placed into state custody. I went through several foster families until I eventually found awesome parents.

  “Hey, you didn’t answer the question,” says Buckler. “What are you doing tonight?”

  “Gunner wants to fuck shit up,” says the kid and I laugh so hard I have to grip him and the handle of my swivel chair before we both fall off.

  “That’s right!” I say and I raise my hand to give him a high-five. “We’re going to fuck shit up tonight. Aren’t we, my little man?”

  “Yeah,” he growls like a bear and bangs his car against my desk. “Boom!” he blares and his spit goes flying across the files on my desk as he impersonates an explosion.

  Buckler smiles. “I’m serious, Gunner. I want to know if you want to hang out?”

  Fuck. I think she’s asking me for more than a “hang out.”

  “I’m busy,” I say.

  “Busy doing what?” she asks with a whine, which I think is unbecoming of her in her uniform. But then again, I love it when Camilla whines to me when she’s in camo.