Copyright © 2013 by Cassie Laurent.
Kindle Edition
v1.0
Lusting for Her Soldier is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. This book or portions thereof may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any form whatsoever without direct permission from the author.
This book is intended Only for Mature Audiences 18+. It contains mature themes, substantial sexually explicit scenes, and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers.
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Table of Contents
Cover
Title/Copyright
Lusting for Her Soldier
More from Cassie
About the Author
Other titles by Cassie Laurent:
Love, Passion, & The Billionaire Cowboy: A BBW Erotic Romance
Lust, Desire, & The Billionaire Cowboy: A BBW Erotic Romance
Lust, Desire, & The Billionaire Cowboy #2: A BBW Erotic Romance
Caressing Chloe's Curves (A BBW Erotic Romance)
Caressing Chloe's Curves: Part 2 (A BBW Erotic Romance)
Laid Up (A BBW Erotic Romance)
Captivated by Her Curves: Alexis' Story
Captivated by Her Curves: Erica's Story
Captivated by Her Curves: Vanessa's Story
Pounded by the Pool Boy (A BBW Erotic Tale)
Bree the BBW Birthday Girl
I had been waiting in the airport for what seemed like several hours on end. It was August 7th, and today was the day my best friend Adam was finally coming home. He was originally supposed to come home last Christmas, but almost as soon as I had received the good news, he had been called back on a third tour of duty. The army was low on recruits, no one wanted to head off to war and fight in the blistering heat of the Middle Eastern desert, but Adam, the soldier that he was, obeyed his Lieutenant’s commands without complaint.
Those months from December until now had been agonizingly long and at times I felt I was waiting in vain. I was working at a local bar at the time, and despite trying my hardest to live a normal life in those months, everything seemed like an endless, exhausting struggle. How could I concentrate on the mundane tasks of my day-to-day life when I knew that Adam was risking his own life overseas?
I tapped my heels nervously in the airport as I stood there waiting. I had done myself up nicely, with perfectly applied makeup and my cutest dress. Nothing too sexy of course, but still something that showed off my voluptuous figure. I wanted to look good for Adam; I wanted to be a sight for his sore eyes.
Now, I should probably explain things a bit. You see, Adam and I aren’t actually involved. In reality, we had never been anything more than friends. We’d met in high school working on a lab report for Mr. Johnson’s physics class. If it wasn’t for that, we probably never would have spoken a word to each other. I was very shy in high school, uncomfortable with my curvy figure—your typical plus sized teenage girl with low self-esteem. Of course I’ve matured since then, but if it hadn’t been for that assignment, I wouldn’t have worked up the courage to speak with someone like Adam in the first place.
He was taller than most boys, with a lean but masculine figure, and an exceptionally handsome face, too. The whole package. He could have gotten with any of the popular girls at school, and the cheerleader team basically flocked to him at every chance they got, prancing their skinny legs around in their tight little uniforms. This didn’t bode too well with my confidence as a younger teen, but it was actually Adam that helped me overcome my excessively self-conscious habits.
When I had first seen him in the locker-lined halls of Fairview High, I immediately fell head over heels for him and he’d soon become my first real crush. He never even noticed me at the time, so it had been quite shattering for my spirits to see him flirting with all those pretty, skinny girls. However, as I became a little more attentive over the semesters, I’d actually started to notice that he wasn’t even the slightest bit interested in any of those girls. Even when he was flirting with them, as charming as he was, I could tell he never really intended for it to go any further than that, as if he was merely fulfilling his public duty for being cursed with such a gorgeous face.
When I had finally started talking to him—nearly two years after I first noticed him as a freshman—I began to realize that he was much more private about his love life than he’d let on. He’d seen a couple of girls throughout his high school days, but none of the relationships seemed to have lasted very long—at least that’s what I could make out from his vague details, usually followed by a change of subject. I still don’t even know who the girls were, but that didn’t matter, because for some reason he seemed to enjoy my company.
After getting over the initial sweaty-palmed panic in meeting him for the first time—trust me, I nearly had a heart attack when Mr. Johnson called out his name to announce my lab partner—I found it surprisingly easy to talk to him, even as a shy girl, and it wasn’t long before I was completely comfortable around him. For the first time, I could just be myself. He was such a sweet and sincere guy, always able to make me laugh, and our conversations would just flow every time we’d see each other. We never ran out of things to say. Occasionally, he’d even comment on how nice I looked that day, telling me I had such a pretty face. At the time, I didn’t read too much into it; I’d just chalked it up to him simply being nice to me. Why would a perfect specimen like Adam have even the slightest interest in a big girl like me?
But the mere fact that a guy like him would even pay attention to me had worked wonders on the self-esteem of my young self. All these self-conscious thoughts gradually faded away as Adam and I grew closer, and we were best friends by our senior year. Adam was the one who helped me dispel the silly high school stigmas that brooded in my mind; he was the one who helped me become comfortable with who I was as I blossomed into a young woman. If it wasn’t for him, high school would have been a few long, miserable years of social awkwardness, just as junior high had been. Sure, I had to experience the whole friend-zone thing for the first time, and it truly was devastating, but eventually I got over it.
When we had graduated high school, Adam had decided to forego college for the time being and enlist in the army. I had been angry with him at first. Angry and very worried for his safety. How could he do this to himself? How could he do this to his family, the loving mother and father who would fear daily for their only son’s life? How could he do this to me? After graduation, Adam was honestly the only person from high school that I still truly cared about.
Most people found it hard to understand why he’d enlisted in the army. His father was very wealthy and he could have gone to college basically anywhere he wanted. But Adam was different from most people, he was motivated by different things.
Adam had principles. He thought it was his duty to go off and defend American freedom and values. This was the type of thing that a lot of people talk about but never do, but Adam was actually doing it. He had a standard higher than most, and he was disciplined in holding himself to it. He told me he couldn’t bear to watch his fellow countrymen go out and risk their lives while he sat back home living his cushy life. So he went with the other soldiers to defend his country.
He told me this when he had explained his decision, and while I could understand his reasoning, I couldn’t help but fear for his well-being. But Ad
am was stubborn and there was nothing that could be done to change his mind. The only advice he gave me was to pray for him while he was away.
I had found Adam to be handsome since the first day I saw him, but it was only recently that I truly began to develop an attraction for him—that is, an attraction with the hopes of it actually happening. Even my thoughts of fantasy from when I had first started crushing on him eventually dissipated, as we became closer as friends. To be honest, I think this was some kind of defense mechanism. I had been uncomfortable with my curves and feared being rejected by someone like Adam, so I made up my mind to never think of him in a sexual way. Only by setting such low expectations could I avoid having my heart broken.
But something happened when we started writing letters to each other a few years ago. I started writing to him because I knew it must be hard living overseas with none of his friends or family around, but even so I struggled to find the right words. I knew he was lonely over there and that he needed all the support he could get as he fought overseas, but what was I supposed to say in a letter to him? How’s your day? The worlds we lived in were so different that clear communication seemed almost impossible, but I knew it was my duty to try to support him, so I gave it my best shot.
To my surprise, I actually liked it. The first letter I received back was incredibly long. Adam had seen a lot in his time in Afghanistan, but he still maintained a positive and upbeat attitude about his life there. He described the arid and rugged desert of that dangerous country in almost literary detail, something pretty unexpected from a young soldier. He told me about his fellow soldiers and some of the missions he had been on. No real details, though, because much of it remained classified, but soon I relished the chance to soak up any new information he could tell me. His life over there seemed so exciting, especially compared to the tedium of my life as a bartender. Adam was halfway around the world, learning about a new culture and making an exciting career for himself; the way he described it made it sound like some sort of amazing adventure.
A few months ago, however, I noticed a shift in the tone of his letters. Things had been rougher there lately. His squadron had been assailed several times recently by radical militants in a particularly violent province of Afghanistan. There had been a number of close calls and several of his fellow soldiers had been injured critically. A few weeks later, Adam wrote to tell me that his best friend over there had died when his truck had detonated a roadside bomb; Adam had been driving the truck immediately behind his friend at the time of the explosion.
Still, Adam retained his resolve. He believed in the cause he was fighting for and was committed to doing his duty to the fullest extent. It was in his nature to be this brave, this strong and courageous. Most men, after all, would have wept like children. Instead, Adam continued to serve his country with honor. But the death of his friend affected him deeply and I could sense the sadness in his letters.
Soon after that tragic event, he stopped writing about day-to-day occurrences altogether. There was no point in cataloging the day-to-day danger he was in overseas, so Adam focused on other things to help assuage my concern for him. He wrote about patriotism, about how much he loved his country and how he couldn’t wait to set foot on American soil once again. He wrote about his plans for when he returned home and how much he missed simple things, like watching a baseball game. He wrote about how much he missed me.
When I had read those last lines, “Sandra, I miss you so much,” it affected me way more than it should have. Of course he missed me, we were best friends. Still, I couldn’t help but feel there was a much deeper sentiment in those last few words.
I know, I know, it’s a letter. And perhaps it was incredibly wishful thinking on my part, but in some ways, everything else he had written about was more revealing to his character than a lot of our face-to-face conversations had been. He definitely had a way with words. I couldn’t believe it, but it was this letter that had rekindled my attraction towards Adam, to a new level I had never felt before.
This was why it was such a devastating shock when I learned he’d be on another tour of duty.
Finally, months later, he was coming home. My years of worry for his life were soon to be a thing of the past. I shifted nervously as I waited in the terminal, feeling ambivalent about Adam’s return. Of course, I was glad that he would finally be home safe and sound, but I also had this newfound attraction to him that I knew would make life difficult for me. After writing so many letters to him and hearing about his military life, I’d begun to see what an exceptional man he really was. Compared with the immature boys of my high school years, and the immature men I now served as a bartender, he was of a different breed altogether. He was principled, honorable, and brave.
These thoughts rushed through my head as I saw Adam come through the gate carrying luggage and wearing his desert camouflage. It had been about five years since I’d last seen him, and in that time he’d changed considerably. For one thing, he was in amazing shape, even better than before. In high school he’d always been pretty wiry, a muscular yet naturally skinny guy, but the discipline of the Army had made him pack on about forty pounds of pure muscle. His body was cut, and I could even his bulging body under the thick cotton of his standard issue uniform.
He tossed his bags to the ground as he approached, and when he came to me I jumped into his arms, ecstatic to see him. To any outside observer, I probably looked like the patient girlfriend, happy to see her long lost soldier return. Part of me wished that I was. Adam was laughing, but I was crying tears of joy, happy to finally see him in the flesh, home safe and sound. I hoped he was home once and for all.
We walked to the car together, Adam carrying his bags with me by his side, neither of us really saying much of anything. Most of this was just fantasy and I’d intended to let it play out as such. I’d never really entertained the idea of actually being with Adam.
Not until I saw him, anyways.
But now that he was here in front of me, I couldn’t get the thought of fucking him out of my head. As we rode home in the car together I daydreamed about the possibilities of that opened themselves to me now that I finally had Adam by my side again. If I’d been alone, I would have touched myself I was getting so turned on; just his presence by itself was driving me absolutely crazy.
As it turned out, I wouldn’t get a chance to be alone for weeks. Adam was staying at my small apartment while he looked for one of his own and adjusted back into the rhythm of civilian life. It was kind of nice actually, cooking him dinner, watching TV together, and just generally having him around. Usually I’d come home from a night shift at the bar to find him watching baseball, beer in hand. He’d ask me how my day was and I’d tell him. He was a good listener, and it was nice to have someone to vent to about the frustrations of my job and some of my co-workers. In a lot of ways it was probably like being married.
Now I should be completely honest. When I invited him to stay, I had some ulterior motives besides being a good friend. The fact of the matter was that I knew that spending a lot of time together would drastically increase the chances of us eventually having sex. I sort of felt a bit guilty about this, trying to seduce him and all, but that meticulously-trained, towering body of his had cast a spell over me. I wore skimpy shorts around the house, low-cut shirts, anything I could to try to get his attention. But nothing seemed to work! Was he just not interested women after those long years in the army? After a week or two I’d kind of given up on this thought and settled into a quiet life with him, helping him look for a job and an apartment.
One Friday night I had the good fortune of being off work for the first time in weeks. Adam invited me to watch baseball with him back at the apartment. The Rangers were playing the Astros, a big rivalry game, and Adam had bought some beer for the occasion. Normally, I’d go out on the town any chance I got since I was usually working all the time, but this lazy night in sounded like just the thing I needed. I told Adam I would pick up a pizza for us
.
Steaming hot and fresh, I whipped open the pizza box as I found Adam predictably sprawled out on the couch in mesh athletic shorts and a tight army t-shirt, sipping a freshly opened can of Coors Light. He looked up at me when I walked into the apartment, and I could swear I saw him eye-fuck me in the briefest instant. After weeks of not making any sort of advance, this sort of shocked me. Part of me wondered if I had simply misread the situation. Oh well, I made up my mind not to worry about it. It was my night off and all I wanted to do was relax.
“Do you mind if I have a beer?”
“Sure thing,” said Adam, reaching down to the case next to him on the floor and handing me an ice cold can.
I’d never really been a huge fan of beer, but it seemed appropriate for watching a baseball game. I took a long sip and gulped it down. Adam smiled and took a sip of his own beer, finishing it off in one long chug.
I tried chugging my own, and didn’t put the can down until it was empty. I crushed it with my hand jokingly. Adam laughed at this, but somewhat approvingly. I went over to grab myself another beer, making a point of bending over in front of him. I was wearing a low-cut shirt that showed off the cleavage of my DD tits.
“Nice rack,” said Adam.
“Excuse me?”
“The girl on the far left,” he said, zooming in on the television screen. “I think she’s the shortstop’s girlfriend.”
“Oh. Yeah, haha.” I was annoyed, but trying to hide it. Was he deliberately fucking with my head? I was finding myself feeling jealous even at the thought of him looking at other girls. What could I do to get his attention?
Before I knew it I was on my fourth beer. The beer was working wonders on my nerves, and for the first time since Adam had come home I finally felt completely relaxed around him. It was only the top of the 4th inning when we decided that the pizza wasn’t enough.
Lusting for Her Soldier (Curvy Girls, BBW Erotic Romance) Page 1
