I was assigned guard duty with Specialist Faith Ann Sipes one Christmas Eve. The blonde female soldier wouldn’t hurt a fly. If ever she had gone to war, her only real weapon would be her southern charm with accent to match. Her hazel eyes could have lured enemy men from Russia into her foxhole. When she blinked, she appeared to be flirting. Her long blonde hair was almost always pinned under her Army hat, but when it was let down, curls cascaded down a freckled back and the smell of strawberry conditioner was enough to overwhelm even the gayest of closeted service men.
We were responsible for answering the phone and keeping an eye on things in the barracks, that Christmas Eve. The cold German barracks were empty; the cement corridors were silent; hallways were not buffed with wax as was the order. We didn’t even bother picking up a broom.
The Berlin Wall had just come down and it was a time of peace.. We took turns taking naps in the recreation room atop a dusty pool table. Most soldiers were away on leave– ski trips to the Alps or bar hopping in the red light district of Frankfurt.
It was a long day– a twenty-four hour shift of absolute boredom, but there was not a more charming person on Fliegerherst Kassern that I would have rather spent that cold Christmas Eve with.
“I read the letter you wrote to your friend, Anthony– you are gay, aren’t you?” Sipes asked as I returned to the desk from napping. I was horrified. I realized then she had read from a legal pad that I left next to the phone on the CQ desk.
“No. I’m bisexual,” I replied casually, as if everyone in the Army knew I was gay. “Anthony’s in jail. I’m writing him a letter in jail. You just misunderstood my words, that’s all.”
“What’s he in jail for?”
“Shoplifting at the PX.”
“So that’s where you got all the nice civilian clothes,” she said, reading me, as they say.
Faithann offered me a blow job, as if to ease the tension that had grown between us that cold Christmas Eve. Perhaps she wanted to see if I was telling her the truth about being bi. I took her up on the challenge. It was almost Christmas I was lonely, and the dark room with the pool table and vending machines was just steps away from the CQ desk and the phones that had not rung all night.
It went beyond a subtle suck on my thick cut cane, hanging almost to my knees from the button-fly opening on my battle dress uniform. I was so sad my lover was locked away and it had been weeks since I had even masturbated. Faith Ann, with her pretty green eyes, managed to call my dick to attention while her cherry red lips bobbed like a sleigh.
The tips of my jump boots were still spit shined, despite the long 24 shift. I watched her reflection from a view from under her chin, from the tip of my toe. I was mesmerized as she slobbered in hunger.
She took down her camouflaged pants and showed her vagina to me while in a perfect pre push-up position atop the pool table. I made my list, checked it twice and was prepared to venture into the Christmas pudding. She tempted me like a reindeer with an ass poked high. It was then that I remember that she was engaged to Specialist O’Connor, a fellow soldier who I both respected and admired.
I held my man pen with both hands and told her to lean upon the vending machine for something sweet. She crawled from the table and wiggled across the room almost tripping in her pants and boots.
“Does he fuck you as good as this?” I asked.
“Who?” the plump blonde with red marks all over her rear asked.