OM DENNE EPISODE
I pulled up the covers and tucked her in.
Silently, I got up and put my boxers back on before heading to the kitchen. The house was dark, save for the dim, flickering light coming from the fireplace. I didn't turn on any lights, as moving through the darkness had always felt natural to me, comforting. Probably how cockroaches feel. Anyway, it was after midnight and I wanted to get an early start on the new day's beer ration. As I drank my beer, I thought about what I had just done with my buddy's daughter. Yes, she was an adult, now, and yes, she had wanted this as much as I had. But would either of those things matter to Jason? I hoped I hadn't destroyed a friendship that spanned multiple decades.
I put more wood on the fire and stood in the middle of the living room, staring out the big bay windows, finishing off my beer as I looked down the long driveway. The thunderstorm had passed but the moon was still hidden by clouds. In the kitchen, I pulled a second beer from the fridge, set it on the counter and picked up my phone. I took a quick photo of the bottle and sent it to Frank with a text: "Wish you were here!"
Halfway through the beer, Frank's reply buzzed my phone.
"Me, too, ass hole!"
I made a mental note to take him a couple beers when I went to check on him later. The empty bottles went into the trash and I returned to the bedroom. For a long while, I just stood beside the bed, watching the beautiful young woman asleep on it. Of all the women that had been in my bed, Tara was the only one I cared about. The only one I actually loved. I stealthily slipped back in bed and drew the covers up. Though not awake, Tara moved toward me like a plant moving toward sunlight, snuggling in close. I put my arm around her, kissed her forehead softly. No way would I let anyone harm her.
I awoke to Tara's sweet lips on mine, kissing me, sucking at my mouth. I kissed her back, then rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom.
"Toothpaste!" I cried out over my shoulder. "I need toothpaste and a shower."
Tara giggled and lay back on the bed, stretched out morning muscles as she sprawled there, naked. In the bathroom, I took care of the usual stuff, then turned on the shower. Tara walked in behind me and sat on the toilet while I waited on the hot water. I leaned down to kiss her with my minty fresh mouth as she tinkled. She reached out and stroked my cum encrusted cock as she kissed me back.
"That sure is a big shower, Uncle Gabriel."
Yes, it certainly was. We showered together, washed each other amid almost constant kissing. I sucked her titties and massaged her cuntlips and clit; Tara sucked my cock and massaged my balls.
I fucked her from behind for a while, until her legs were close to giving out, then turned her around and pressed her into a corner, lifted her right leg and screwed her until we both came. As I pumped another load into her tight, delicious pussy, I realized how easily Tara could become an addiction for me.
By mid-morning we had eaten, screwed again in the kitchen, and went outside for a hike in the woods. With Frank on overwatch, I felt secure enough to leave the rifle behind, opting instead for my BFR 45 70 revolver in a chest rig, and a Walther PPQ 45 on my hip, for backup.
“Hey, there are bears in these parts. Doesn't hurt to be prepared, right?” Tara sucked me off in the woods, but didn't want to fuck because of her fear of spiders.
Damn right I pulled out my cock and let her suck it; I ain't afraid of spiders.
We had Reubens and fries for lunch. I made a couple more for Frank. Tara caught up with me on the day's beer rations as I had switched to water. Tara was a very pleasant conversationalist and lunch was a very nice change from my typical solo meals.
After cleaning up, I packed the sandwiches, several miscellaneous snack goodies, six bottles of water, and two beers for Frank.
"Beast to Overwatch, sit rep, over," I said into a small, hand-held 2-way radio.
"Overwatch to Beast, dude, you live by a seriously boring piece of asphalt," Frank replied over the radio. "This shit is deader than week old road kill."
"Cool," I returned, "Heading your way to resupply, rally at the turnoff, over."
"Roger that, see you in a few."
I clipped the radio to my waist and turned to gear back up. Tara stared at me, a dubious expression on her face.
"What?"
"Beast?" she asked. "Your hoo-ah hoo-ah Army nickname is Beast?" I threw my palms up and shrugged.
"Well, it was either going to be that, or You Asshole, which, has like, three times as many syllables. Conciser is nicer."
Tara shook her head and grabbed up Frank's care package.
"Come on, Uncle Beast. Frank will be wanting these." Tara put her hand on my shoulder and got me moving toward the door.
Outside, I removed the tarp from one of the ATV got on and fired it up. Tara got on behind me and after letting the engine warm up, we headed up the driveway toward the county blacktop. We stopped just short of the gate that secured the driveway and dismounted. Across the road, Frank was coming down from the adjacent high ground. Almost to the road, he slung his rifle and waved. We waved back and I gestured toward the woods to my right. We gathered in the shade under the tall firs and Frank gave Tara a big hug.
"Dang, girl," Frank said, looking her over with an appreciative eye, "you done went and got all growed up."
Tara sighed and shrugged. "Well, Uncle Frank, it wouldn't be such a shock if you came for visits more often."
Hearing Tara call him Uncle Frank had a strange effect on me, not jealousy, but something I couldn't quite determine. Growing up, she had called all of her dad's Army buddies 'Uncle', a title we had all happily shared. Perhaps that was the source of my discomfort. I no longer wanted to share her. We sat near a low, bushy cedar and talked while Frank got busy with a sandwich and beer.
"As of last contact," Frank mumbled through a half-filled mouth, "the plan is to cut the head off the snake. Emmett's already calling in some operators to put together a team, and Kyle is gathering intel and working up a mission plan."
"Any leads on why one of Tara's security guys was part of the crew sent to get her?" I asked. Frank took a swig from his beer and shook his head.
"Not, yet," he replied. "But we might have a guy working that. Remember Tony Coletti?" I nodded. "Well, Kyle and Tony stayed in touch since we got out. Tony's a big time computer nerd, software engineer, hacker geek, or something. Kyle got the guy's phone number from Jason and somehow he's backtracking through call logs."
"Alright, bro," I said, standing up and offering my hand to Tara. "We're going to head back, I guess. Rally tomorrow on the other side of the drive, an hour earlier. In the meantime, anything you need, call me. Frank stood up and held out his arms toward Tara.
"All I need right now is another hug from our girl," Frank said, grinning wide.
Tara stepped up to him and gave him a hug. He held on longer than I liked.
"Come on, Trouble," I told her, "let's go get that boat ride off our 'to do' list."
Tara broke the hug and raced off toward the ATV.
I reached out, shook my old buddy's hand. "Thanks for doing this."
Frank nodded. "Thanks for the Reubens."
Tara ran across the yard toward the boat. Having spent way too much on the high-end bass boat, I ended up with an aluminum carport in place of a proper boathouse. With a few modifications, the carport was anchored to the South side of my dock, and the twenty-one foot bass boat was trapped and held snugly in place by eight moor lines. Overkill, I know, but I wasn't about to let wind and rough water slam my overpriced toy around like a drunken prom queen.
Next to it on the dock, Tara was jumping up and down like an excited teenager, waiting for me.
I took my time getting there, enjoying the sight of her titties bouncing beneath her T-shirt. Thinking about what I wanted to do to her out on the lake was giving me a chubby.
The one-hour boat ride I had planned ended up being almost three. She insisted on sucking my cock, first, to help get me in the mood, she said. Honestly, I'd been in the mood all day, but I wasn't stupid enough to pass on a blowjob.
I cut the motor and we drifted while Tara went to work on my cock, sucking and throating me without mercy, fondling my balls. I watched her head bobbing up and down on me, felt her tongue swirl side to side on the bottom of my shaft. She was amazing, and with the waves gently rocking the boat, it felt like a perfect moment, frozen in time.
I came hard in her sexy mouth, spewing salty ropes of my seed against the back of her throat. Tara greedily took every drop as she pumped my shaft with both hands, determined to drain me.
Getting up from the swivel captain's seat, I stood her up and pulled off her T-shirt. Braless, her perfect tits were on full display. I kissed her hotly, groped her titties like a lust-crazed sex maniac. Roughly, I unfastened her shorts and yanked them down, along with her panties. I hurriedly guided her onto her back, lying her on the carpeted compartment lids that made up the front half of the boat's deck. Pushing her legs apart, I wasted little time pressing my mouth against her already soaked cunny. I ate her out like a man who was helplessly in love, whose sole mission in life was to inflict as much pleasure upon her as possible. She moaned and thrust her pussy at my tongue, tightened her body and trembled at every orgasm, and when she could endure no more, she pulled desperately on me, to move up and fuck her.
I paused to suck her sensitive titties, first, nibbling at her long nipples, sucking and nipping them with my teeth. Tara took hold of my head with both hands and again pulled at me, trying to get me into position.
"No more teasing," she panted, our lips touching. "I need you to fuck me, Gabriel. Please don't make me beg you."
I kissed her hard, slid my tongue into her mouth and drove my cock all the way into her tight, wet cunt in a single thrust. She moaned forcefully into my mouth, then wrapped her sexy legs around my waist. I knew what she wanted, what her body needed. Feverishly, I slammed hard and fast into her, nibbled and sucked at her neck while mauling her tits with my hand.
When she started coming, I briefly wondered if her cries of ecstasy could be heard across the lake, or on the mountainside where Frank was sitting as overwatch. In that moment, though, it really didn't matter. Her pussy felt so fucking good, so inescapable, I couldn't stop pounding it even if her father was sitting behind me, watching.
We continued on like that for a while, then repositioned for some frenzied doggy-style action.
She yelled and gasped, slapped the deck with her palms and quivered uncontrollably.
When I eventually came in her, I was drenched in sweat and near collapse. When my orgasm finally began to wane, I pulled my cock out of her overflowing pussy and lay down next to her, gasping for air. She rolled to her side and kissed me, despite my huffing and puffing.
"I haven't really thanked you for saving my life," she said softly, caressing my face with her delicate fingers, then kissing me, again. "I hope you know how much I love you, Gabriel. How much I'm in love with you."
Even in its current state of oxygen deprivation, my brain snapped back to reality upon hearing her words. I pressed my forehead to hers.
"I love you, too, Tara. More than you'll probably ever know."
She kissed me, then looked deep into my eyes. "In that case," she began, "you'll probably have to show me."
If it hadn't been for thirst and hunger, we likely would have stayed out on the lake until dark. Tara wanted to sit on my lap and fuck me on the way back to the dock, but I was still too spent.
If I had been nineteen, again, no problem. But I was a forty-three year-old trying to satisfy an insatiable twenty year-old woman. I already knew I was in for a long night.
With the boat secure in its little carport boathouse, we walked arm in arm to the cabin. We skipped the beer and went straight for the Gatorade. We showered together, but without sex. Okay, maybe a lot of kissing, fingering, and stroking, but no fucking. Perhaps we were both saving up for a long night.
After a light dinner of tossed salad, tomato soup, and grilled ham and cheese sandwiches, I lit a new fire in the fireplace and we snuggled close on the sofa. For a long while, we sat in silence, content to be together, kissing and touching. It was me who broke the quiet.
"Tara, did you really mean what you said, earlier?"
"Of course I did," she replied. "I always mean what I say." She paused, then continued. "What statement of mine are you talking about?"
"The one about you being in love with me." Tara moved over to sit on my lap, facing me.
"Oh, that statement. Yes. I am definitely, one-hundred percent, totally, madly in love with you, Gabriel Martin Stone." I was stunned that she knew my middle name, but I knew better than to ask how she knew it. "Want me to prove it?" she asked. I wrapped my arms around her waist, smiled and nodded. Tara stood up and took my hand, then led me to the bedroom. My long night was about to begin.
The way she made love to me was more settled, somehow. Less frenetic and more loving. She was gentle, as if savoring every sensation, and focused on giving me pleasure.
I matched her, poured my love into her, praying she could know what was in my heart as we slow-fucked and kissed. Our acts of love went far into the night, and like the previous night.
I went to the kitchen once she had fallen asleep. This time, however, I stood in my living room drinking a bottle of water. I hadn't been there long when I heard my phone buzz on the kitchen counter behind me. It was Frank. I answered the call.
"Okay, bro," Frank began in a whisper, "we got action, front. Two vehicles. Two four-man teams, moving to your twenty. Four left, four right. One driver staying back in each vehicle. What's the play?"
I was already rushing to the bedroom. "The play is we kill the fuckers. Give them five minutes to get well into the kill zone, then take out the drivers. Get their keys and move in on your four from behind, you take the West side of the driveway, I'll take the East side."
"Copy that," Frank said, "drivers in five, then sweep West."
I dressed and geared up quickly, grabbed my Walther, three additional mags, and a 22 rifle I had suppressed with a long, custom can. Unsure if the men moving toward the cabin were equipped with night vision, I slipped out the back door and moved around to the southeast side of the cabin. I took up a good spot, about fifty yards out in the treeline. That was the moment I saw the boats. Rowing in silently, two inflatables were approaching my dock. I scoped them with the infrared optic on the 22. Each boat carried six men. I covered the face of my phone so no light would get out, then texted this new development to Frank.
Frank texted back, "Roger, coming in hot." A few seconds later I heard two distant, muffled shots, a second apart. I decided that the best time to engage the jolly pirates was now, while they were still in tight groups on the water. A.22 is not a hard-hitter, but with subsonic ammo and a decent can, it's a very stealthy weapon with almost no recoil, which was what I needed for rapid, accurate follow-up shots.
From my line of sight, the six heads in each boat were closely aligned. Nice. Seven rounds fired, six heads ventilated. The guys in the other boat succumbed to panic and chaos. The two in front fired wildly in my general direction, and one jumped off the back of their boat into the water.
Thwack! Thwack!
The shooters in front were retired. The middle pair and the guy in the back started paddling like crazy, trying to get to the other side of the dock to get some cover.
Thwack! Thwack!; Thwack!
Boat number 2 was clear, but I still had one in the water. Having made it to the dock, he was staying low, moving around the dock toward my boat. Oh, hell no, I thought, jumping up and running to a new position.
Thwack!
Problem solved, time to reload. As I did just that, I heard men shouting in the tree line, excited. The shouts were soon followed by the distinctive sounds of Frank's slightly muffled, large caliber AR. Gunfire erupted on both sides of the driveway. I handled the four on my side of the driveway, Frank handled his four. It was over in a few seconds. I met Frank on the driveway and we went around to each body, confirming that the threat had been eliminated. We gathered guns and ammo, but found no IDs or cell phones.
"Goddamn, man," Frank beamed. "We got, like what, sixteen of these fuckheads? What do you want to do with them?"
I looked at one of the bodies, then out at the lake. "Fish gotta eat, too, right?"
I awoke to the sensation of Tara's fingernails gently raking through the hairs on my chest. I opened a sleepy eye and looked over at her. On her side, she was busy studying me, smiling.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," she said, her voice a silken whisper. "I must be taking a toll on you, dear. It's almost eight."
It was after four that morning when I had showered and slipped back into bed without waking her. She reached down and took full control of my morning wood. Scooting in close, she nibbled at my earlobe, whispered in my ear. "Time to get up, darling."
The days and nights with Tara passed far too quickly, each filled with hugs and kisses, snuggles and cuddles by the fire, hikes and boat rides, and a ridiculous amount of sex. It seemed we were addicted to it, like teenage newlyweds. If the cliché is true, that time flies when you're having fun, our time was flying by with a rocket up its ass.
On the eighth day, as Tara and I were fixing another supply package for Frank, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Frank, saying, "Heading your way. Mission complete." It was a good thing, to be sure, but my heart sank when I read the message.
"Gabriel, what is it?" Tara asked.
I handed her my phone and she read the text. She looked up at me and I could tell by her expression that she was as dumbstruck as I was.
She stepped in close and wrapped her arms around me, squeezed me tight. "What does this mean? Does it mean I have to go home, now?" I held her face and looked into her eyes.
"It just means that the threat has been taken care of," I answered. "Let's talk to Frank and get some details, okay?" Tara nodded. We kissed and went out on the porch to wait on Frank, each of us grappling with our own thoughts.
When Frank arrived on foot down the driveway carrying all of his gear, we greeted him and sat down to talk. Frank explained that the seven-man assault team put together by Emmett and Jason had gone to Guatemala and disposed of Enrico Zavala's brother, Jorge, who was responsible for the attacks.
"Well," I said, looking over at Tara, "I guess that's good news, right?"
Tara shrugged and looked down at her lap. "Yeah, of course," she replied, no cheer in her voice. "It's good."
Frank studied her expression closely, tried to read it, then looked over at me. I knew what was running through his mind, and he was right.
"Damn straight it's good news," he asserted, "but it ain't the big news. Ready to have your brains explode?"
We nodded and Frank continued. "Tony put the puzzle together on your rogue security asshole. Gabe, he was fucking Andrea." Tara gaspe
