Don't Ask, Don't Tell; Chapter Eight
When we arrived at the nightclub, we were very disappointed. Nothing like American night clubs, it seemed getting anywhere with the waiters, bartenders, or other patrons was an absolute nightmare. Why didn’t I learn to speak the fucking language? Okay sure, they spoke some English, but it was just as broken as my greek. About an hour into the evening, and noticing it was getting closer to curfew; I asked Stokes if we could move on to somewhere a little less irritating.
She agreed, as did Mikey who looked just as miserable as we were. Mikey suggested a small bar down the way, so we stood began to walk out.
“I feel weird anyway, in fatigues and all.”
“Yeah, you looked kinda weird in there… out of place.” Stokes agreed, which didn’t make me feel any better.
“Atleast I didn’t have everybody looking at my nipples.” I jibed.
“Hey, I can’t help it if red shows everything.” She laughed, and flung her arm around me, “I
love the shit out of you Robinson. How come we never slept together?”
Mikey’s whips his head around “What? Did she just aske you why you two didn’t sleep together?”
I blush “Yeah, she’s had too much to drink.”
“No seriously” Stokes slurs “I bet you taste great.”
Mikey laughs “She could be less filling too…”
Stokes and Mikey laugh and carry on, reciting beer commercials. I pout, as I noticed Howie wasn’t at the night club… In fact, he just plain disappeared completely. Sheesh, the town wasn’t that big.
“So Robinson, was that fight in the mess hall over you then?” he asked, still snickering about the beer commercial thing.
“Well, I wouldn’t say it was over me… but my name did come up a couple of times.”
“Rumor has it you were fucking that one chick.”
I blush again, but this time I felt a bit defensive too, “What? What the fuck is going on? Is my life that much of an open book?”
Stokes and Mikey stop, directing me to stop as well by a pull on the arm “Robinson” Stokes sighs “Robinson Robinson Robinson…”
“What?”
Mikey then leans into me “Your life being an open book? No. But on ship, nothing is ever a secret… ever.”
We finally make it into the bar, and I take a seat at the booth “I’ll take a beer please.” Mikey walks over to the bar to order, finding somebody he knew there; slapping that person on the back and pointing over in our direction. The stranger pays for our beers and stands. Oh no, that isn’t I think to myself, is that?
“Look Robinson” Stokes leans over the table at me “It’s Howie!” And then adds “You wore underwear right?”
I laugh at Stokes statement of underwear “What the fuck was that about? Of course I wore underwear you silly bitch.”
“Kay” she snaps her gum “cause there’s nothing worse than cumstains in your cami’s.”
“Noted” I said, smiling, as Mikey and Howie make their way to the booth “No worries there.”
Once they entered the booth, I immediately turned bashful. Fingernail biting, beer pounding. I found myself lost in the conversation, not being able to follow the topics at hand… and only one thing was to blame, Howie was sitting next to me. He was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt, looking quite hot. I tried to keep up with the talk of other soldiers on ship, and the rumors that abound in the long steel hallways. But no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t. I could smell him, and every once in a while he would lean closer to me, brushing up against my arm.
I decided I would try to play buzzed and lean on him; it must’ve worked, because he leaned back. We were pressing up against each other, hard. I mean, sure it was just arms; but it was heaven. A few moments later Howie leaned out and spoke something to the waitress in fluent greek; my mouth fell agape. “How’d you do that?” Jealous of his multi-langual skills… I grin widely, and play coy with my eyes.
He laughs and matches the eye play “Educational Audio Tape, it kicks ass.”
“Wow, I’m impressed! What did you say?”
“I ordered another round…” He smiles and shoots a rather conniving look at Mikey, who begins laughing immediately after.
“I know what that look means!” Mikey announces, as his arm reaches back and rests on the booth behind Stokes.
“What? What did you order?” I asked, looking just as clueless as Stokes at this point; who looked as if she were about to cream.
“Shots” Howie then looks to me and leans “Two for everybody.”
Shit, I’m not good with shots, I think to myself, I’ll be drunk in no time. Well, perhaps I can just pretend that I can hold my own liquor, those guys will never know. Hopefully, they’ll be as drunk as me; and this could actually work to my advantage with Howie.
The waitress returns with the shots, we give a cheers and pound them quickly; my mouth puckers… ewww, that tastes like shit.
“What the fuck is this?” I spat at Howie, who seemed to be having trouble holding his down as well “Ouzo” he winces back “Authentic shit. You’ll never find it back in the states like it is here… damn shame.”
“Agreed” Mikey interrupts “I had that shit back at home.. not the same.”
“That’s because they add the opiate here.”
What? What the fuck did he say? Did he say opiate? “Howie” my face grew stern “did you say
opiate?”
“Yeah” he begins to snicker, watching the blood drain from my face “Hallucinogenic even,… good shit.” He picks up his second shot, and raises it to match Mikeys; whose had been in the air no sooner had we finished the first. Stokes and I sit in amazement watching them down their second, and order their third. I look down at mine, one empty shot, one full shot… tempting but no, I had already had too much to drink today. I’m not fucking with the opiates.
“I think I’ll pass…”
“Yeah, not sure about this stuff.” Stokes agrees and pushes hers towards the middle of the table.
Mikey and Howie begin to tease us, so we look at each other feeling embarrassed and reclaim our glasses. I guess if this is what it takes, I’ll do it and chalk it up to a learning experience. God damn peer pressure.
“Well, here goes nothing” Stokes raises her glass and chokes her second helping back, scrunching her face up on the return, coughing like crazy “Fuck that tastes like shit.”
“Good girl” praised Mikey as he receives his third.. “Good girl, want this one too?”
“Fuck no!” she pushes on Mikey, who sways back and falls into her a bit. She smiles widely at me, noticing that he has now scooted closer and his arm has fallen over her shoulder.
I sit, still looking at my full shot… like a pussy.
“Come on Robinson” Howie says softly “You don’t have to drink it, really.”
“No, I’ll drink it.” Now I was pissed at myself because I had an out, but my mouth blew it by saying stupid shit like no I’ll drink it. I chug it back, blocking my taste as much as I could… it was over before I knew it. I followed with a smoke I bummed from Mikey, which made it a whole lot better.
Not but moments later, we sat laughing like a bunch of fools at stupid shit. And again I couldn’t follow the conversation; but not because of Howie, because of the amount of opiates I had pumped into my system moments ago.
“I think that they should have co-ed sleeping on ship.” One would joke…
“Or perhaps have fuck rooms that we could go to for casual sex, that would keep the troops in order…”
“Isn’t that the lottery room?” Mikey adds-in, the booth fell silent.
“Uhh, Mikey. Shut the fuck up…” Howie tries to act serious, but his smile is stuck on… he must be really high right about now.
“Yeah, sorry…. Fuck.” Mikey laughs, pointing to Howies expression, “You can’t even keep a straight face, can you?”
“No, I totally fucking can’t… this is insane shit… how many hours do we have?”
“Seriously,” Stokes spats “What makes you think I can fucking read my watch right now?”
“Dunno, hold on…” again Howie uses his Greek skills to ask the waitress, who apparently responded with 10:30. “Shit, and hour and a half… what should we do?”
I don’t know how or why I didn’t notice that his left hand had moved under the booth. Really not sure if I even noticed it when he tapped my leg, nudging me to look under the booth… I force my eyes to focus in the darkness down in the cushions. I tried to look inconspicuous since that was apparently how he was trying to play it. It appeared as if he was trying to hand me something… so I move my hand down slowly, as not to attract attention. He grabs it, and places it over on his lap.
Through his jeans, I can feel his dick. No seriously, and it was really hard… I felt a bit of shock, and became immediately distracted. The rest of the room disappeared, my only focus was my fingertips and his hard member. I look over to him, he matches my surprised smile and nods a little, then turning back to give Stokes shit about her shirt.
I fondle through the thick material to find the zipper, but there is none… only buttons. I cringe inside, buttons are tough to maneuver when sober, much less drunk, high, and horny. But I am diligent, and I try to work the first button. Howie isn’t stopping me either…in fact, he sucks in a bit so I can more easily get them undone.
Pop, I feel the first button come undone, and then the second… I can feel the soft fabric of his underwear… no seams, no cotton…. Boxers? No way…. Way. I’m hotter.
I keep popping, one after the other; until all five buttons are open. I then slide a finger inside the fly of his boxers; he shifts to allow me easier access. Instantly I feel the hotness of his hard on, thick and warm… I gush with excitement, feeling a bit of perspiration in the corner of my lip.
“Robinson?” Mikey looks to me “Robinson”
“What?” I blurt, startled… my fingers tense, Howie flinches.
“What’dya think” he looks to me as if I hadn’t answered a question.. “sit here and continue to shoot the shit? Or the park.”
I wanted to say “Well, considering I have a dick in my hand, and I’m creaming my jeans…. We should stay.” Okay, but I couldn’t say that…
“We could stay.” I comply, stuttering a bit… sweating and extremely turned on.
“I suppose that’s cool” Stokes added, “I probably couldn’t get up right now anyway.”
I free his cock from the restraints of his boxers, it stands tall in my hand as it encompasses it, and grips it gently. I look over to Howie, who had his head back a bit, eyes closed…
“Hey” Mikey shouts to Howie “Keep it alive over there.”
“Shit sorry.” Howie gets attentive to the happenings at the table. “What were we talking about?” My hand slides up his shaft, I use my thumb to trace the lip of his head… and then start back down…
“What do you think we should do?” Mikey is still playing the fucking question game, fucker.
“I think we should go to the park, definetly.” Howie sighs… trying not to let on that he’s enjoying the manipulation under the table. I startle at his suggestion, knowing that his pleasure (and mine) would be over soon if we left the booth. Besides, I was so fucked up at this point, I wasn’t convinced I could leave the bar in one piece.
“Good plan, let’s go…” Stokes pushes Mikey, who almost falls like an idiot out of the booth. My hand releases it’s grip and clumsily moves to the top of the table, resting there… gloriously having just touched his dick. I swear I’ll never wash that hand again.
Howie moves to button quickly and works his way out of the booth. Me, being the concerned temptress that I was, became nervous about the tent he was pitching showing through his pants. It did,… score. We fell out of the bar and basically crawled to the park.
She agreed, as did Mikey who looked just as miserable as we were. Mikey suggested a small bar down the way, so we stood began to walk out.
“I feel weird anyway, in fatigues and all.”
“Yeah, you looked kinda weird in there… out of place.” Stokes agreed, which didn’t make me feel any better.
“Atleast I didn’t have everybody looking at my nipples.” I jibed.
“Hey, I can’t help it if red shows everything.” She laughed, and flung her arm around me, “I
love the shit out of you Robinson. How come we never slept together?”
Mikey’s whips his head around “What? Did she just aske you why you two didn’t sleep together?”
I blush “Yeah, she’s had too much to drink.”
“No seriously” Stokes slurs “I bet you taste great.”
Mikey laughs “She could be less filling too…”
Stokes and Mikey laugh and carry on, reciting beer commercials. I pout, as I noticed Howie wasn’t at the night club… In fact, he just plain disappeared completely. Sheesh, the town wasn’t that big.
“So Robinson, was that fight in the mess hall over you then?” he asked, still snickering about the beer commercial thing.
“Well, I wouldn’t say it was over me… but my name did come up a couple of times.”
“Rumor has it you were fucking that one chick.”
I blush again, but this time I felt a bit defensive too, “What? What the fuck is going on? Is my life that much of an open book?”
Stokes and Mikey stop, directing me to stop as well by a pull on the arm “Robinson” Stokes sighs “Robinson Robinson Robinson…”
“What?”
Mikey then leans into me “Your life being an open book? No. But on ship, nothing is ever a secret… ever.”
We finally make it into the bar, and I take a seat at the booth “I’ll take a beer please.” Mikey walks over to the bar to order, finding somebody he knew there; slapping that person on the back and pointing over in our direction. The stranger pays for our beers and stands. Oh no, that isn’t I think to myself, is that?
“Look Robinson” Stokes leans over the table at me “It’s Howie!” And then adds “You wore underwear right?”
I laugh at Stokes statement of underwear “What the fuck was that about? Of course I wore underwear you silly bitch.”
“Kay” she snaps her gum “cause there’s nothing worse than cumstains in your cami’s.”
“Noted” I said, smiling, as Mikey and Howie make their way to the booth “No worries there.”
Once they entered the booth, I immediately turned bashful. Fingernail biting, beer pounding. I found myself lost in the conversation, not being able to follow the topics at hand… and only one thing was to blame, Howie was sitting next to me. He was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt, looking quite hot. I tried to keep up with the talk of other soldiers on ship, and the rumors that abound in the long steel hallways. But no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t. I could smell him, and every once in a while he would lean closer to me, brushing up against my arm.
I decided I would try to play buzzed and lean on him; it must’ve worked, because he leaned back. We were pressing up against each other, hard. I mean, sure it was just arms; but it was heaven. A few moments later Howie leaned out and spoke something to the waitress in fluent greek; my mouth fell agape. “How’d you do that?” Jealous of his multi-langual skills… I grin widely, and play coy with my eyes.
He laughs and matches the eye play “Educational Audio Tape, it kicks ass.”
“Wow, I’m impressed! What did you say?”
“I ordered another round…” He smiles and shoots a rather conniving look at Mikey, who begins laughing immediately after.
“I know what that look means!” Mikey announces, as his arm reaches back and rests on the booth behind Stokes.
“What? What did you order?” I asked, looking just as clueless as Stokes at this point; who looked as if she were about to cream.
“Shots” Howie then looks to me and leans “Two for everybody.”
Shit, I’m not good with shots, I think to myself, I’ll be drunk in no time. Well, perhaps I can just pretend that I can hold my own liquor, those guys will never know. Hopefully, they’ll be as drunk as me; and this could actually work to my advantage with Howie.
The waitress returns with the shots, we give a cheers and pound them quickly; my mouth puckers… ewww, that tastes like shit.
“What the fuck is this?” I spat at Howie, who seemed to be having trouble holding his down as well “Ouzo” he winces back “Authentic shit. You’ll never find it back in the states like it is here… damn shame.”
“Agreed” Mikey interrupts “I had that shit back at home.. not the same.”
“That’s because they add the opiate here.”
What? What the fuck did he say? Did he say opiate? “Howie” my face grew stern “did you say
opiate?”
“Yeah” he begins to snicker, watching the blood drain from my face “Hallucinogenic even,… good shit.” He picks up his second shot, and raises it to match Mikeys; whose had been in the air no sooner had we finished the first. Stokes and I sit in amazement watching them down their second, and order their third. I look down at mine, one empty shot, one full shot… tempting but no, I had already had too much to drink today. I’m not fucking with the opiates.
“I think I’ll pass…”
“Yeah, not sure about this stuff.” Stokes agrees and pushes hers towards the middle of the table.
Mikey and Howie begin to tease us, so we look at each other feeling embarrassed and reclaim our glasses. I guess if this is what it takes, I’ll do it and chalk it up to a learning experience. God damn peer pressure.
“Well, here goes nothing” Stokes raises her glass and chokes her second helping back, scrunching her face up on the return, coughing like crazy “Fuck that tastes like shit.”
“Good girl” praised Mikey as he receives his third.. “Good girl, want this one too?”
“Fuck no!” she pushes on Mikey, who sways back and falls into her a bit. She smiles widely at me, noticing that he has now scooted closer and his arm has fallen over her shoulder.
I sit, still looking at my full shot… like a pussy.
“Come on Robinson” Howie says softly “You don’t have to drink it, really.”
“No, I’ll drink it.” Now I was pissed at myself because I had an out, but my mouth blew it by saying stupid shit like no I’ll drink it. I chug it back, blocking my taste as much as I could… it was over before I knew it. I followed with a smoke I bummed from Mikey, which made it a whole lot better.
Not but moments later, we sat laughing like a bunch of fools at stupid shit. And again I couldn’t follow the conversation; but not because of Howie, because of the amount of opiates I had pumped into my system moments ago.
“I think that they should have co-ed sleeping on ship.” One would joke…
“Or perhaps have fuck rooms that we could go to for casual sex, that would keep the troops in order…”
“Isn’t that the lottery room?” Mikey adds-in, the booth fell silent.
“Uhh, Mikey. Shut the fuck up…” Howie tries to act serious, but his smile is stuck on… he must be really high right about now.
“Yeah, sorry…. Fuck.” Mikey laughs, pointing to Howies expression, “You can’t even keep a straight face, can you?”
“No, I totally fucking can’t… this is insane shit… how many hours do we have?”
“Seriously,” Stokes spats “What makes you think I can fucking read my watch right now?”
“Dunno, hold on…” again Howie uses his Greek skills to ask the waitress, who apparently responded with 10:30. “Shit, and hour and a half… what should we do?”
I don’t know how or why I didn’t notice that his left hand had moved under the booth. Really not sure if I even noticed it when he tapped my leg, nudging me to look under the booth… I force my eyes to focus in the darkness down in the cushions. I tried to look inconspicuous since that was apparently how he was trying to play it. It appeared as if he was trying to hand me something… so I move my hand down slowly, as not to attract attention. He grabs it, and places it over on his lap.
Through his jeans, I can feel his dick. No seriously, and it was really hard… I felt a bit of shock, and became immediately distracted. The rest of the room disappeared, my only focus was my fingertips and his hard member. I look over to him, he matches my surprised smile and nods a little, then turning back to give Stokes shit about her shirt.
I fondle through the thick material to find the zipper, but there is none… only buttons. I cringe inside, buttons are tough to maneuver when sober, much less drunk, high, and horny. But I am diligent, and I try to work the first button. Howie isn’t stopping me either…in fact, he sucks in a bit so I can more easily get them undone.
Pop, I feel the first button come undone, and then the second… I can feel the soft fabric of his underwear… no seams, no cotton…. Boxers? No way…. Way. I’m hotter.
I keep popping, one after the other; until all five buttons are open. I then slide a finger inside the fly of his boxers; he shifts to allow me easier access. Instantly I feel the hotness of his hard on, thick and warm… I gush with excitement, feeling a bit of perspiration in the corner of my lip.
“Robinson?” Mikey looks to me “Robinson”
“What?” I blurt, startled… my fingers tense, Howie flinches.
“What’dya think” he looks to me as if I hadn’t answered a question.. “sit here and continue to shoot the shit? Or the park.”
I wanted to say “Well, considering I have a dick in my hand, and I’m creaming my jeans…. We should stay.” Okay, but I couldn’t say that…
“We could stay.” I comply, stuttering a bit… sweating and extremely turned on.
“I suppose that’s cool” Stokes added, “I probably couldn’t get up right now anyway.”
I free his cock from the restraints of his boxers, it stands tall in my hand as it encompasses it, and grips it gently. I look over to Howie, who had his head back a bit, eyes closed…
“Hey” Mikey shouts to Howie “Keep it alive over there.”
“Shit sorry.” Howie gets attentive to the happenings at the table. “What were we talking about?” My hand slides up his shaft, I use my thumb to trace the lip of his head… and then start back down…
“What do you think we should do?” Mikey is still playing the fucking question game, fucker.
“I think we should go to the park, definetly.” Howie sighs… trying not to let on that he’s enjoying the manipulation under the table. I startle at his suggestion, knowing that his pleasure (and mine) would be over soon if we left the booth. Besides, I was so fucked up at this point, I wasn’t convinced I could leave the bar in one piece.
“Good plan, let’s go…” Stokes pushes Mikey, who almost falls like an idiot out of the booth. My hand releases it’s grip and clumsily moves to the top of the table, resting there… gloriously having just touched his dick. I swear I’ll never wash that hand again.
Howie moves to button quickly and works his way out of the booth. Me, being the concerned temptress that I was, became nervous about the tent he was pitching showing through his pants. It did,… score. We fell out of the bar and basically crawled to the park.
posted by Everything Nice at 10:05 AM
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