Gage:A Bad Boy Military Romance(2)

By: Cordelia Blanc





I was behind them, finishing my workout with a set on the pull-up bar. With every pull-up, I was able to see over their drooling heads. For once, they had a good reason to cheer like that. For once, HQ sent in a real looker, a girl whose used-and-abused vagina wasn’t dragging through the sand the moment she walked off the chopper.



The beauty scanned the slack-jawed faces of the crowd. Her sunglasses did little to hide the obvious fear on her face.



Most girls stepped off those birds with fear on their faces. They were afraid of the Hajjis, the terrorists, the Ali-Baba. All they knew was that Iraq was a dangerous, war-torn, third-world country. None of them realized they had a better chance of seeing action back on home soil than anywhere within fifty miles of our outpost.



But this girl was different. She looked afraid, but not of the possibility of an insurgent attack. She was afraid of us. She was afraid of the ogling eyes and raging hard-ons of the Joes within our camp’s walls. And if I were her, I’d be afraid of the same damn thing.



And like the bunch of hungry dogs that they were, the crowd of GIs howled and barked. It wasn’t until the bombshell vanished inside the Guest Facility that the men realized there were twenty-three other women being unloaded from the birds before them. And for once, the girls weren’t all half-bad. I thought, they must be getting ready to send us into battle, because they sent us some real honeys.



The newcomers were quick to distract the horny soldiers, waving, catcalling—one girl even opened up her bulletproof vest and flashed her tits at the crowd. The moment those ripe jugs were out in that desert heat, everyone had forgotten about the vixen in the black heels.



“Hey, hot stuff,” one of the girls called out to me as the recruits ushered her by. “Lookin’ good up there. Why don’t you come down here and show me your big muscles.” I looked away and ignored the slut.



When they send you out to the towns on patrol, they tell you not to feed or pet the stray dogs because the dogs won’t leave you alone if you do. The moment you stop feeding them, the scrawny bastards start biting. The BCs were no different.



“What’s wrong with you? You a queer or something?” The men all laughed at the Barrel Cleaner’s jab. I looked at her and she was nothing special. One of her eyes was droopy, which usually happened when they got into the smack. She was pretty enough, but nothing special. I looked away.



Fuck her. She wasn’t worth interrupting a workout. None of them were. Only the black-heeled beauty was worth looking at, but even I wouldn’t touch her, knowing her snatch was on a timeshare, split with twenty-three other horny men with more diseases than a pack of sewer rats.



That first night of the month was everyone’s favourite. The girls would disappear for a few hours, giving the Joes plenty of time to get all horny and excited. They would turn the chow hall into a glorified strip joint and the girls would emerge one by one, taking turns at the pole that was actually just one of the hall’s support beams.



After their little strip-tease, they would disappear in the back again, until later when they would all come out at once to do a little curtsy and then pair off with the boys. Everyone would drink tons of booze and fuck.



The next few nights were supposed to be the same, but the girls were always too wasted from the drugs and the drinking and the aggressive fucking to put in the effort.



That February haul was different. For once, they didn’t look like street girls. All the other men were too preoccupied thinking about which one they wanted to fuck first to wonder why the army sent us real women.



We found out why after all the girls were settled into the Guest Facility.



“It’s your lucky week, boys,” Major Richards said, emerging from the Guest Facility. Major Richards was the only one allowed in the guest hall. He outranked all of us, but they didn’t let the other major at our outpost in the guest hall. Major Richards was allowed in because he was a closet homosexual and everyone knew it, including the general. Luckily for Major Richards, they stopped banning homos from the military years before he was deployed. “These aren’t just any girls—these are the 2016 Playboy Playmates.”



There was a silence while everyone looked at one another.



“Quit fucking yakin’ us, Rich,” someone called out.



“I’m serious. The boys back home finally got something right. From what I understand, Playboy is trying to drum up some publicity. They have a new image and a new brand and they thought, what’s more American than sending their girls to meet some active-duty marines?”

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