by Nicole Casey
I played along. “It doesn’t matter who I am. What matters is what I want; and I want you.” I grabbed her hands and pulled her to me. I wrapped her in my arms, lifted her veil and embraced her long and hard.
She kissed me back, but eventually she put her hands on my chest and tried to push me away. “You must leave,” she said. “I’m here on business.”
I pulled the shawl from her shoulders and spun it into a tight rope shape. “I’m here on business, too: the business of fucking you.”
I pushed her onto the bed and jumped on top of her.
She tried to push me off, with no conviction. Gwen was strong. Even if she wasn’t able to push me off of her, she was certainly capable of making me understand she wanted me off. But her slaps and pushes were all play.
I grabbed her hands, pinned them behind her head and tied them together with the shawl. “So nice of you to bring something I could tie you up with.”
I tied the other end of the shawl to the headboard.
She buckled and thrashed and kicked. “I’ll scream,” she said.
I chuckled. “I know you will.” I unbuckled my belt and slipped it off. “That’s the point.”
“Help,” she said, but not loud.
I slapped her on the side with the belt. “Not yet. You’ll know when to scream.”
I jumped off the bed and pulled off my pants. My cock was hard and I was eager to plunge it into her.
I hiked up her dress and yanked off her panties. I tried to spread her legs, but she kicked me. So I whipped her again with the belt, not too hard, but not too lightly either.
“Owe,” she said.
I lifted her leg and pulled it to the side. I left my belt lying across her chest, and with my other hand I guided my cock against her pussy.
She wasn’t yet wet enough for me. I grabbed her legs and lifted her off the bed. I pulled her gown further up over her, set her legs down then pulled her gown over her head. It hid her hands, now, but nothing else.
Her body was gorgeous: firm breasts, hard nipples, flat stomach, legs spread wide.
I slid a hand around her hips and grabbed her ass. I laid myself on top of her, my chest pressed against her crotch. I kissed around her stomach; my tongue flicked her belly button. My left hand ran firmly up her side while my right ran firmly down her leg.
Then I reversed: my hand ran from the tip of her chin, over her neck then her chest and around her heaving breast. My other hand ran up her calf, along the inner part of her thigh and grabbed at her pelvis, pushing her leg further apart so I could put my mouth to her snatch. I’d dreamt and fantasized of tasting her. My lips and tongue worked greedily, as if her delicious snatch would disappear at any moment.
I ran my tongue up her belly along with my hand until they reached her chest. I grabbed both her breasts, kissed each one, running my tongue around her hard nipples while she murmured and moaned softly. The tip of my cock touched her pussy; she was definitely wet enough for me now.
“Untie my hands,” she said softly.
I grabbed her leg, lifted it and turned it over so I could enter her from the side. “Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” I said.
I had no need to use my hand to guide my stiff cock into her. She opened for me, and I worked my way in with little pumps and gyrations.
I was three quarters of the way into her and she arched her head back and let out a cry of pleasure.
“God,” I said, “you feel so fucking good.”
I grabbed her ass with one hand. With the other hand I reached up and untied the shawl from the headboard. But I did not untie her hands.
She grabbed my chest. I grabbed her head and kissed her. My lips and tongue explored her mouth in rhythm with my cock penetrating her deeper and deeper.
She let out a loud moan. “God, you’re fucking huge.”
Her hands ran down my chest, but tied together I could see she was having trouble moving them down.
“I’m not all the way in,” I said. I turned her on her side and laid myself down beside her, one arm wrapped around her shoulders keeping her body tight against mine, the other rubbing the contours of her pussy, my fingers gently exploring her labia.
I straddled her and lifted her hips to pull her closer to me as I rammed my cock deeper into her still.
I pulled out when I felt I was about to come. “I should put on protection,” I said, under my breath.
Gwen managed to pull her hands free. She turned, grabbed me by the back of my neck and pulled me back onto her. She wrapped her legs around my back.
I entered her again. “I’m going to come,” I said.
She kissed me, long.
I fucked her, long.
We came together.
I picked my pants off the floor, pulled out my phone from the front pocket and glanced at the time. “Oh, shit. I need to get out of here.”
Gwen lay curled up on the bed. “Awe. You’re going to leave me here all alone?”
I shook my head. “I’m going to leave you. But you won’t be alone; not for long.”
Her eyes widened.
I gave her a kiss. “I need to jump in the shower real quick.”
“Sure.”
I took one of the fastest showers I’d ever taken in my life. I dried myself off, barely, slipped on my clothes and opened the door. I turned to Gwen, blew her a kiss and slipped out into the corridor.
Just as I reached the stairs, Nolan turned the corner. I was walking so fast I almost smacked into him.
“Shit, Axel.” He glanced at his watch then at me. “You better hurry.”
“Yep,” I said then I raced down the stairs, out the lobby and ran back to the base.
12
Tristan
Aisha was my high school sweetheart. I’d been with a few girls since Aisha, but they had been one-night stands. With Gwen, it was different. I tried to keep my feelings out of it; I tried to focus on her hot body and tell myself it was just about the sex. But I simply wasn’t able to. I kept thinking about her. I thought about the sex, sure, but most of the time I thought about just being around her or talking to her or laughing with her.
This had me very concerned.
It had been nearly nine years since Aisha’s accident, and I still wasn’t ready for any kind of emotional attachment. Hell, it took me nearly four years before I was able to ride in a car again. I still hated them; I hated roads and traffic lights, and all the tangential things that contributed to taking Aisha’s life.
Aisha had been my first, and, until Gwen, she’d been the only girl I ever cared about. It was impossible not to make a comparison. Not that I compared Gwen to Aisha; but I compared how I felt about Gwen to how I’d felt about Aisha. The feelings were uncomfortably similar.
I was so bothered by this that I did something I almost never did: I talked to my brothers—I mean, really talk to them.
“It’s starting again,” I said.
“What’s starting again?” asked Taylor.
I tapped my chest. “My heart. I’m having feelings.”
“Feelings for Gwen?” asked Travis.
I nodded.
“That’s a good thing,” said Taylor. “It’s good and natural. I have feelings for her.” He motioned to Travis. “So does Travis; he has feelings for her. It’s normal.”
Travis nodded.
I said nothing.
“This has you worried?” asked Taylor.
I nodded.
“Is it the sharing?” asked Travis. “Are you feeling jealousy?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. No. No, I don’t feel jealousy. I feel… dread.”
“Dread?” They said in unison.
I stood, put my hands on my head and paced. “I’m feeling exactly like how I felt before I lost Aisha.”
“But,—” Taylor started.
“I don’t know,” I interrupted. “I feel like something terrible is about to happen. I feel great, but at the same time, I’ve felt this way before.” The volume in my voice rose wit
h each frantically uttered sentence. “It’s starting again. It’s all happening again.”
Travis put a hand on my shoulder. “Tristan, nothing terrible’s going to happen.”
I snapped at him. “You don’t know that.”
I wasn’t the only one struggling with these feelings. One by one, the rest of the squad started opening up to me. The rest of the squad expressed similar feelings: dread, doubt, excitement, lust. I wasn’t crazy. Or maybe I was, but I wasn’t the only one. We were all feeling a bit crazy for Gwen, crazy and concerned. These contradicting feelings were further exacerbated when we were given the date of our upcoming deployment: November 18th.
The date brought a certain fatalistic mood to the apartment, like we knew it was all going to end, and we knew when, and the day was fast approaching.
Axel called another meeting.
“Gentlemen, we’re Marines,” he started, pacing up and down like a drill sergeant. “We abide by a code.”
He pointed to Nolan. “Nolan, what is our code?”
Nolan frowned. “To respect human dignity; to have respect and concern for each other.”
Axel made an about-face. “And we all have respect and concern for Gwen, do we not?”
Nobody said anything. Axel turned to us, surprised.
Santiago, lying slouched on the couch, said, “Is this a meeting or a drill? Because if it’s a drill, I’m out of here. I’ve had enough of those for the day.”
Axel put his hands in the air, open palms out. “I don’t know, guys. I’m trying. We’re deploying soon. We need to act in one mind, in one spirit. I thought a meeting where we could set out some ground rules would be helpful.”
“A meeting is helpful,” said Elijah. “So why don’t you stop acting like a drill sergeant and take a seat so we can start the meeting?”
Axel took a seat then nobody said anything for a while. Finally, I broke the silence. “Rule number one,” I said, “Travis is the only one to send her texts; all communication has to go through Travis.”
“And if Travis wants to send her a text from him,” said Santiago, “Someone else needs to be there with him.”
“Why’s that?” asked Travis.
“No communication should be secret,” said Nolan.
Travis nodded. “Makes sense. Fine by me.”
Another long moment of silence followed before Elijah proposed rule number two: ‘No one can go down to The Bean Counter and see her alone.’ That suggestion was shot down then amended to ‘no one can go out on a date with her alone. But going to The Bean Counter alone was allowed.’
The meeting carried on like this for the better part of an hour. In the end, we’d set out ground rules that basically spelled out the way we’d already been acting. But at least it was good to have it spelled out, to alleviate doubt and avoid misunderstanding.
The ground rules were set to avoid misunderstandings, to ensure Gwen was treated with dignity and respect and to prevent any competition or jealousy from coming between us.
However, we didn’t come up with any rules that could prevent any one of us from getting a broken heart. The only rules that could protect me from a broken heart were ‘don’t get involved; don’t care’, and I was tired of living by those rules. I didn’t know how I was going to protect myself, but at least I knew I wasn’t going to do that.
The following day, Taylor and Manny agreed to meet me down at The Bean Counter at lunch time. I finished earlier than they did, and since I had to start earlier in the afternoon I went on ahead of them.
Gwen greeted me on the sidewalk before I’d even made it to the cafe. “Hi, Tristan. What a pleasant surprise.”
I wanted to kiss her, but being so close to her place of work, I hesitated. She must have read my mind or she was very perceptive as to my body language, because she said. “You don’t need to worry. It’s my place; I own it; I do what I want.” And she kissed me.
I laughed. “Funny, I had the same thoughts about you, but still I hesitated.”
“The same thoughts?”
I held her hands, leaned back and looked her up and down. I motioned to her body and said, “Yeah. I own it; I do what I want.”
She twisted her lips into a wry smile.
“Still, I didn’t want to get you in trouble.”
“I think you’re more likely to get yourself into trouble with talk like that,” she said.
I pulled her to me and held her tight. God, she felt great in my arms. “What? You mean saying that I own you.”
She nodded.
I kissed her again. “I know I don’t own you. Just your body.” I squeezed her ass.
“You better be careful,” she said, “I have friends in the Marines.”
I spun her around then brought her body tight against mine. “Yes, you do,” I said. I kissed her on the cheek then I let her go. Having her so close to me was starting to drive me crazy. I risked losing control and taking her right there on the sidewalk or bending her over one of the terrace tables and taking her right in front of her customers and passers-by.
“I don’t know what my friends in the Marines would say to you claiming to own me,” she said, playfully.
“They would correct my choice of pronoun: ‘we’ own you.”
Her eyes got wide. “Is that what you think?”
I nodded. “What? You don’t agree?”
She looked off toward the beach as if she were giving my question serious thought. “You mean own, like I’m your property?”
“Yeah, you’re our girl.”
She put her hands on her hips then looked back at me. “Property, huh? Not girlfriend?”
I winced and put a hand to my heart. “Owe.”
She laughed. “What? Is that word painful to hear?”
I nodded. “Yeah, it is painful. I’ve never lost sleep or fallen into despair over property. You see the distance?”
She nodded. She stuck out her hand for me to take.
I did.
“Shall we go for a walk along the beach?” she said.
I looked behind me toward the base then back at her. “Actually, Taylor and Manny are coming.”
She pulled me toward her. “They can catch up. Come on, take your property for a walk.”
We agreed that it was maybe just a question of semantics. I preferred the word property because I felt my heart could deal with that more easily. I didn’t tell her that my high school sweetheart, Aisha, was killed in a car accident the night we had agreed to spend our lives together. One day, I’d tell Gwen about her, but that afternoon on the beach wasn’t the right time.
She said she could appreciate me wanting to protect my heart. She said she had the same concerns. I didn’t press her for specifics.
I told her about the ground rules we’d come up with. “To make sure you’re treated with dignity and respect,” I said. “And to make sure there was no competition or jealousy among us; so that we could share you in a way that was sustainable, that didn’t create problems.”
“The dignity and respect part I can get on board with,” she said. “I don’t know how I feel about the ‘so you can share me’ part. I don’t know how I feel about being considered as property.”
It had seemed so clear and logical during the meeting. But talking with Gwen then it wasn’t so cut and dry.
“I’m not trying to put pressure on you,” I said. “You don’t need to decide right now. And, of course, you can always change your mind. I’m just telling you what we were talking about last night.”
“Thanks. I appreciate the honesty.”
“Honesty, that’s one of the pillars of the ground rules.”
She put her hand against my cheek. I thought she was about to pull me in for a kiss. But in the distance I saw Manny and Taylor walking our way. I pointed. “Reinforcements.”
I hadn’t gotten around to telling Gwen about our upcoming deployment. I didn’t know how. Taylor didn’t waste any time. After saying hi and giving her a kiss, he came right out wit
h the news.
Gwen took it better than I’d expected—at least outwardly it appeared she was taking it well.
Manny softened the blow by telling her about a Halloween party he’d been invited to, that we’d all been invited to. He must have just been invited that morning because it was news to me. ‘A fancy masquerade ball this weekend,’ was how he put it.
Gwen accepted the invitation immediately. She asked if she could invite her roommate. Manny said he’d have to check with his friend, but he didn’t think it would be a problem. Unfortunately, I had to get back to the base.
I kissed Gwen goodbye. “I’ll see you soon,” I said.
“This weekend,” she replied with a smile. “At the masquerade ball.”
I jogged back to the base with the taste of her lips still lingering on my tongue and the excitement of seeing her this weekend coursing through my entire body.
13
Gwen
When Travis texted me saying Holly was welcome at the masquerade ball, I phoned her with the good news.
“When? This Saturday?” she asked.
“Yes. Please say you’ll go with me.”
“A costume party with plenty of hot guys: I’ll have to think about it,” she said.
“Well, get back to me when—”
“I’ve thought about it,” she interrupted. “I’m definitely going.”
“Great! It’s going to be so much fun. And you’ll get to meet my Marines.”
“Looking forward to it.”
As excited as I was, I still found something to worry about—old habits die hard. “We only have three days to get costumes.”
“Leave that to me,” she said.
I could practically hear her grinning over the phone.
Saturday afternoon was generally a busy time for the cafe. But with Holly leaving for Mexico soon, and with the masquerade ball that night, I decided I was going to take the weekend off. Jenny had a friend who was looking for work. Perfect timing. Business was booming. I could use another girl. I hired her sight unseen.
