The prelude to this short story begins at this post:
Sergeant Greer knocked on the door of my room at 7 p.m. I had just returned from having dinner at the mess hall with Henry Walker. A succulent piece of meatloaf hit the spot. Private Walker settled for a heaping of baked chicken legs and instant mashed potatoes.
“Taylor, you have a visitor at the C.Q. desk,” the skinny Black non-commissioned officer stated in a serious tone as if he were about to issue an order to me. It was almost forbidden to have guests in our barracks rooms.
I was busy ironing my camouflage fatigues. I vaguely remembered seeing Sergeant Geer in P.T. formation earlier that day. He was much more handsome in spit shined boots and an evenly- pressed cap that fit his head almost like a bandana.
Greer was pulling CQ duty, a position that everyone in the unit had to fulfill from time to time. C.Q. duty ran straight for twenty-four hours. Duties involved managing company telephones and monitoring activity inside the barracks. Being in the Army was like serving hard time on occasion. There were so many strict rules to abide by. There were unnecessary control measures placed on single soldiers who lived on post. Commanders know to keep guests in the barracks to a minimum. It was against the law for any soldier to have sex on base. Strangers from outside the unit visited for one of two reasons– to drink or to have sex. With most barracks being co-ed in the mid-Eighties, living on post was similar to being in college, living in a dormitory.
I wondered who was there to visit me. I had only been in Hanau for seventy-two hours. I assumed it was Anthony Miller– the man I met in Ansbach on my first tour of duty. I hadn’t called him since arriving back in Germany. Perhaps because he had access to electronic military personnel records he was able track me down in near record time. For a moment I was nervous. What if he had come by the day I arrived, only to learn that I was not in the barracks? I was out at a gay bar, searching for strange. What was I going say to justify my absence?
Anthony was fortunate to have selected the most leisurely of military occupational specialties upon enlistment. He worked in personnel. Soldiers in his company did not operate tanks, run telephone wires as ‘cable dogs’ or shoot M–60 machine guns. They were an army of administrative assistants who ran the nation’s largest human resources department. From promotional paperwork to documenting Army Achievement Medals and Good Conduct Awards– it all came through the unit where he worked. It would have been easy for him to find out where social security number 188-54-9926 was assigned upon arrival under the command of the United States Army Europe.
I shyly walked down the hallway and passed a recreational room. I subtly stole a glance of my reflection in the glass of a trophy case that housed awards that had been issued by powerful generals to the unit in which I was now assigned. I looked good. I couldn’t wait to see Anthony. I missed him so much. I hadn’t kissed his freckled lips in almost seven months.
It wasn’t Anthony signing in at the desk. It was Lisa Payne. How did she determine where I was and how did she even know that I was back in the military?
How dare she show up unannounced! I told her that there was no future in our relationship. She was obsessed with me. I felt it best that we remember the good times and simply move on with our lives, in separate directions. I didn’t want to even remain friends with my former girlfriend, especially after what she said to my mother over the phone– long distance. I made a mistake by giving her my home telephone number when I left Ansbach for civilian life just a few months prior.
Mom did not repeat the things that Lisa said to her about my homosexuality and relationship with a married man who was also in the military.
“A girl from the Army called here for you. I told her you were at work. Is she Black?”
I never wanted to see Lisa again after noticing the look in my mother’s eyes. I knew she was shocked by something Lisa had said to her on the phone. I never pressed Mom for the details. I didn’t want to talk about it. How cruel can a woman be when she loses a lover to the opposite sex? Lisa was outright vicious and went for the jugular after I dumped her.
I should have simply ended our love affair without announcing my sexual preference. I told her because I wanted her to know that it was not her fault that it was not working out. It was nothing she had done wrong. It was true what I said to her. She certainly was a beautiful Black woman. It’s just that I wasn’t into her like she was me. I shared my deepest secret from the love of my heart, to my first true friend in life– my soul mate. That was her term for us– soul mates. It seemed real. We were born on the same day and for a moment had fallen in love but tragically for her, I was gay.
The problem was, I ate her out too good. She had an addiction for my big ‘red white-boy lips’ as she often referred to them. I told her that I didn’t want to have sex until I was married. I lapped her in luxury not from lust, but because my dick would not get hard for her. There was nothing I could do. There was pussy being thrown in my face and I wanted none of it. She didn’t know, or didn’t seem to care that I couldn’t get it up as long as my lips were doing the talking.
“I want you to marry me,” she moaned in delight. The oral sex was more of an exploratory adventure than an act of sharing to me. I felt in control of her as her legs quivered but would much rather have been dominated by a man who would likely make me feel safe and secure in his arms. That’s all I could think about– laying there like she was doing and feeling the roughness of five-o’clock shadow brush against the smoothness of my buttocks. How I envied her. The study that I was undergoing went further than it should have.
“God damn it white boy, put that big fucking dick in me, please….”
Her sweetness was thrust upon my tongue like the waves of a stormy sea crashing upon large rocks that surround a light house. I curled my tongue in a silly way. There was no desire to mount her, but I got a kick out of the way she seemed to slip into a state of delusional ecstacy when I spoke tongues into her.
Why was she at my new duty station? Hadn’t she done enough by ruining my reputation with my mother? Wouldn’t she please just go away?
Lisa was serious when she asked me to marry her. That I realized when I saw her standing in Hanau, still dressed in her Army uniform. I was just having a little fun and trying to start a new life.
A man should not have to give his soul to a woman who stole his virginity.
“Lisa! What the hell?”….