Emily
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Emily Ch. 03 free porn video
This is the third chapter of a series which was begun in the Erotic Coupling category. The second chapter was more romantic than the first, and this one is total romance.
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Thursday, January 13, 2005
‘Hush,’ was all that Emily said, as she continued to make love to me. I had been falling for her, hard, in the barely two days that we’d been together, and, apparently stupidly, said, ‘I love you, Em’ while we were making love. Must’ve been the wrong thing to say.
We didn’t stop making love, and if what I said slowed down Emily’s fun, it didn’t stop it, because she at least appeared to have a pretty strong orgasm before I erupted. After the sex, Emily settled down into her by-now standard position, laying on her left side with her head on my shoulder, playing with my chest as she was relaxing and enjoying being with me. I loved that, true enough, but it was a disappointment that I had so thoroughly misinterpreted what I had thought were signs that Emily was falling for me, too. I really wanted to talk to her about this, but was smart enough to know that I should keep my mouth shut. We had another day and night at the ski resort where we’d been unexpectedly sharing a bedroom, and a bed, and if some pretty good sex was all that I was going to get out of it, well that’s not a terrible consolation prize.
I suppose that I should have. Winter break was just about over, and Emily would be heading back to college in a few days. Me? I was scheduled to report to MEPS Harrisburg, the Military Entrance Processing Station, from which I’d be shipped out to Fort Benning, Georgia, for 26 weeks of infantry basic training. I’d be gone for half a year, and probably shipped out to Iraq shortly after that. I had fallen hard for Em, and I thought that she was falling for me, but perhaps a hard-headed calculation – she is an accounting major, after all – was overriding anything her heart might be telling her. All in all, I was a bad bet for a boyfriend.
Then again, maybe her heart wasn’t telling her anything, maybe she just had a naturally sweet disposition which I misinterpreted as her falling for me. Maybe sex really was all that there was to this. It could have been, because while we had some nice, fairly easy sex the next night – I had bruised my ribs trying to ski a hill beyond my skill level – once we got back home, I never saw her or heard from her again.
Monday, April 4, 2005
What a pain in the ass this place is! Sergeants all over the place, trying to push you to get things done, get your stuff ready, and then pack you on the plane to basic training. Most of the recruits were heading to Fort Jackson, in South Carolina, while a smaller contingent of us were on the way to Benning. There were a lot of girls getting ready for the trip to Jackson, but it was only guys heading to Fort Benning. Normally that would have been a disappointment, but I was pretty sure that the drill sergeants would be keeping me way too busy and way too tired to worry about girls. I’d gone out with this one girl, a friend of one of my buddies from the gas station, a couple of times since getting back from skiing, but while she was cute enough, we really never clicked.
Tuesday, April 5,2005
If the sergeants were a pain at MEPS, they were a royal pain at the Reception Battalion at Fort Benning. The 30th Adjutant General Battalion has a three-day ‘processing’ to get soldiers into their Basic Combat Training units, and I was being assigned to the 1-46th Infantry Regiment, my ‘home’ and family for the next 26 weeks. The sergeants at the 30th acted just like wannabe drill sergeants, and we were pushed around to hurry up to wait in the next long line, for three days. More physicals, more tests, and more paperwork, all in Army triplicate.
There was one paperwork line for next-of-kin, the final paperwork on whom we wanted notified if we got injured in training or shot up in Iraq. I had put Emily out of my mind fairly successfully over the last 2½ months, but for some reason, I wanted to put her down as the person to be notified. That was silly, and I couldn’t have if I had truly wanted to: I didn’t know her phone number or address.
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
I was sitting at what passed for home for me, a bunkhouse on a cattle ranch outside of Elko, Nevada, when I saw that I had an e-mail from Jane, the secretary of our high school class. As the class secretary, and, of course, head cheerleader and most dreamed-about girl in school, it was Jane’s duty to organize our class reunions, and Jane was going through, trying to find everybody – since a lot of the girls had different last names now, it wasn’t always easy for her – to find out who would be interested in coming to a ten-year reunion, which she was trying to put together for this coming August. It’s a long way from our hometown in New Jersey to northeastern Nevada, and I e-mailed back that it wasn’t very likely that I’d get to go. Except for two classmates who had gone early to their eternal rewards, I was probably the farthest away of any of us.
I was working on the Botticelli’s cattle ranch, a job I’d fallen into thanks to an Army buddy. A lot of ‘regular’ employers weren’t really interested in Iraq and Afghanistan veterans, I guess that they thought we were all PTSD cases who’d shoot up their businesses, but ranch labor in Nevada was simply a matter of going out to a ranch and asking for work. If they needed help, and you were willing to do manual labor, you got hired. Since I could already ride a horse, that was just a plus.
The Botticellis had over a thousand acres, and they raised cattle, both their own and some others that they fattened up on a gain basis, they were paid by how much weight the cattle gained. The owners worked as hard as the hired hands, and had an absolutely awesome set-up. Their house was an old cabin that had been added onto as the years passed, but for a bedroom, they had a double bed, set up on the top of a small hill, with four poles and a roof over it, and a fence to keep out the coyotes. Summer or winter, that was where Mr and Mrs Botticelli slept, and I thought that was just great. In these semi-arid conditions, there were few bothersome insects, and the smell of rain on the sagebrush was just amazing.
The hired hands? We slept in a gang bunkhouse. It was big, way bigger than the crew needed, and it had everything we needed: bunks, a big bathroom and showers, electricity, cable television and even an internet connection. With room-and-board provided for the hands, I could save most of my pay.
There was work for all of us, every day. Since I could ride, I frequently got the fence detail, riding the fences to see if anything needed to be repaired. If I found a bad place, one that I couldn’t fix with the cutters and pliers I kept in the saddle bags, I called in on my cell with the location – the Botticellis had numbered all of the fence posts the way the electric company labels power poles – and a crew would come out in a pickup truck with whatever was needed to repair the fences. It was cheaper to send out a rider on horseback to check the fences than send the truck around to check, since gas was so expensive, and I loved that duty: I got to work by myself and be responsible for myself, out in the open on that big ranch.
Of course, there were other jobs, jobs which frequently seemed to involve cow manure. I’d rather ride the fences!
I’d dated a couple of girls in Elko, but it never turned into anything serious. I didn’t really like Elko all that much: it was a boring, ranch-service town, with three big casinos to pull in gamblers from Utah, those Mormons just loved to gamble, and while you could find some gambling in Utah, there wasn’t much of it. A lot of Elko’s income came from the Mormons! Trouble is, there wasn’t really all that much interesting in Elko, at least, not that I knew of, other than the casinos – and four brothels – and I just wasn’t interested in those. I was good-looking enough to get la
id without going to Sue’s Fantasy club, but I didn’t really try that hard, and consequently, didn’t get laid very often. A couple of the guys teased me that I must’ve been gay because I wasn’t spending every free moment looking for girls. The truth was that, though I’d only been close to her for three days, ten years ago, I had never, ever met another girl like Emily. If you had asked me if I was still carrying a torch for her, I’d have denied it, but that would have been a lie.
You know how memories fade over time, how you can remember what happened, but no longer have the mental picture? I didn’t remember every move of sex with her, but I could still see, as clearly as the day it happened, when we’d wound up sharing the same bed, purely by accident, and I asked Emily to kiss me. She said no, she didn’t want to, and then I said that I had just noticed how pretty her eyes were. I got that kiss, but Emily wasn’t quite ready for sex at the moment, and just cuddled up against me to go to sleep.
It turned out that we didn’t go to sleep right then, and maybe an hour later Emily turned really frisky, but the memory of her just laying beside me, with her head on my shoulder, that has stayed with me through the boiling heat of Iraq, the mud houses of Afghanistan, and riding the fences in the dead of winter in the high desert of Nevada.
The other hands were shooting the shit, and getting ready to head to the Stockmen’s Casino in Elko. The sun was still up, but about to set, and I walked out of the bunkhouse. ‘You going to the Stockmen’s with us?’ they called out to me, but they knew the answer, I had only been a few times, and didn’t care for it. I didn’t care for gambling, and the girls just all seemed so plastic to me. I could go and stare at some surgically-engineered tits if I wanted – and what real girl has a 23 inch waist and 38DD boobs? – but I just wasn’t interested. Jane’s e-mail, and I’m still not sure how she found me, and the thought of a class reunion, brought back memories of Emily, her clear blue eyes, and her soft, soft lips. I could remember her short brunette locks, and how they smelled of a herbal shampoo, and I could remember her idly playing with my chest. I remembered her hands touching my shoulders from behind, when she joined me in the shower, and I remembered how sweetly she tried to take care of my bruised ribs after I took a bad fall skiing down the big hill.
The Botticelli’s ranch was at 6,000 feet in the high desert, with the Ruby Mountains off to the west, and that led to clear skies and sudden sunsets over the 11,000 foot peaks. The snow was mostly gone from the ranch in late April, but the Rubies were still glistening white in the day, deep blue just before sunset, and a brilliant rose color just as the sun went down behind the range. On the next rise over, the Botticelli’s outdoor bedroom sat, small in the distance. It was then that I decided: yes, I was going to that reunion, on the chance that I could have one dance, and one more kiss, from Emily.
Fawn
- 12.12.2022
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