Don't ask, Don't Tell; Chapter Three

Six weeks is a long fucking time to be stuck in a giant fucking tin can with a bunch of other soldiers. Normal deployment time is 2 weeks or so and then you port. Well sure, under normal circumstances… but due to current affairs overseas it appeared our course kept routing and routing.
Now I understand how people go fucking crazy. I had heard stories about being on ship for two weeks, and how intense it can become. The scene just about everywhere was fucking bizarre-o…from the stressed out to the extroverted; nothing was too much of a secret… And don’t let that surprise you about being on ship; especially stocked co-ed.
We were trying to be all that we could be, but it was getting iffy. As the weeks dragged on it seemed we would never port. The water was seamless and endless, we were looking forward to some freedom.

Chilly and I continued our rituals under the pink blanket, but that was getting tedious as well. Quarters were way too close and the others were starting to talk. High school politics shit, I fucking swear.

One morning, when exercises were through; we hit the showers and headed for the mess hall to eat breakfast. I looked forward to meals; because I knew that at meals I would get to see him closer than from across the deck.
That’s right; that soldier, sitting at the same table, in the same spot, and every fucking day looking at me; with those angry-sexual eyes. So many times I had fantasized about those eyes staring at me, as Chilly would eat me out. So many times I had to masturbate after meals in a quiet corner just to get through the evening….
Because of that fucking guy.

So I sit, and I look… and he’s there.
I can’t take it anymore… I am breaking.
”What’s your fucking problem?” Stokes grunts; as she sits across from me, clunking the tray down on the table “you look like you’re about to kick somebody’s ass…”

“I am,” I replied, feeling shaken and sick for what I was about to do…

“Whose bothering you then, let’s deal with it.” She lifted her cup to drink.

I replied again, “I am… and… I am.

Her face looked puzzled as I stood up, and walked over (felt like miles), and approach his table… his eyes follow me as I traveled,. I start to feel sick. “Please don’t fucking puke” I think to myself, “Oh god, don’t puke.. don’t get sick….”
I approach the table. My eyes are glossy from repelling my gag reflex…

Four other guys from his division were sitting with him… they all look up at me in unison. I am definitely going to get sick.

“Hi.” Says one of them, kindly, “you look sick”
“Am thanks” I muttered… then just stood there like a retard.

“And, you thought we could help?” he smiled widely in reply.

Then, most appropriately; a long silence….
“No, I” I began to stumble again… “I thought…” Shit, I need to pull my shit together, right now. Courage, marine, courage.

The others sitting there began to chuckle at my demise. I looked to the soldier with the eyes, and he looked up at me… and he said “It wasn’t my day for kitchen detail.”
And then he smiled widely… more so than his cohorts.

Fuck this shit, I’m just doing it. I remember my strength and blurt “No, actually I came over here because I wanted to introduce myself.”

“Huh?” another one of the guys stopped, as if this caught his interest.

“Yea, you see, me and the other girls in our unit would love to party with you guys when we port. Whaddya say?”

“Sure cool, what’s your name.”

“Well, they call me Robinson, but the name on my underwear is Jennings.”

“Robinson, I’m Jackson… and this here is Mikey… and this one ….” He points to the other two guys, at this point I’m not hearing their names, I am waiting for the soldier to introduce himself…. And then he did.

He extends his hand to shake mine, which is more than his buddies offered, “I’m Hayward, well at least that’s the name on my underwear.” I shook his hand, hoping that he would not notice the sweat on my palms, “They call me Howie.”

His comrade Mikey interrupts “But you can call him anything you like.” They all begin to laugh except for Howie, who looks back up at me inquisitively.

“So, you want to party with my guys eh?”

“You’re guys?” I mocked, though curious, “Whatd’ya pimp them out or something?”
His face grew stern, “On Sundays after church… But watch your mouth private, you’re talking to a Corporal.”
His gang of merry men begin to chuckle…
“Uh, yeah. .sorry” I stutter slightly, “When we port, us ladies would like to do a group thing..”
Oh Shit, I think to myself… did I just say a group thing? Oh fuck I can’t believe I just said that. Prepare for greasy comments. They all erupt into laughter again…

“Group thing… that sounds great” laughs Jackson, nudging Mikey on the shoulder to participate in the foolery.
“Ooh,” says Mikey, “I want the big fat bitch in the center. “I bet she could suck a mean dick.”
“I want the cute little redhead thing… I could toss her a salad with dressing.” Added another guy from across the table whose name I didn’t catch.
“That’s not what she’s talking about you fuck..” Howie interjected. “Don’t be a bunch of assholes…”
“Yes sir Corporal..” snickered Mikey as he gave a very comedic salute to Howie, “I’ll go walk the fuckin’ plank or some shit… you need to get laid Howie…”
Mikey then motioned to the other four guys, “Come on guys.., The smoking lamps lit.”
They all stood and collected their trays, as they began to leave Jackson stops as he passes me “See you on the train sweetheart,” and walks away, shouting over his shoulder as he goes “Later Howie…”

So there we were, sure in the middle of a still crowded mess hall… but within a three foot radius, we were alone. I looked over my shoulder to be sure my girls were still there; they were, staring back curiously and wondering why those “guys” just blew kisses in their direction as they left.

“Yeah, so sorry about those guys, they’re really just a bunch of assholes. But they’re my assholes…” He sighed “The military does that to ya, I’m sure they were perfectly normal people back at home.”

“Yeah? You think so”

“Probably, I mean, somebody at home loves them… I’m sure.”

“Really,” I gaffed, “That’s difficult to imagine.”

“Wanna sit?” His palm extended to the empty spot at the table across from him.

“Uh, I should get back to my unit” I look back over my shoulder, but the girls are gone… the mess hall is emptying… we are even more alone now. I turn back and shrug, “Well, they’re gone so why not?”

So I am sitting across from him, the soldier.
The one with the burning gaze that seems even more intoxicating now that I’m sitting right across from it. We began to talk about where we were from, why we joined the Marines, what we felt we should be accomplishing, if anything. I tried to maintain my end of the conversation, but found it a challenge as all I could think about was how does he feel? Taste? Fuck?

What he’s probably saying: well I come from California originally…
And I hear: blah blah blah come blah blah blah

It was time for briefings, and the announcement of it over the PA was what eventually ended the conversation. “I’ll see you when we port.”

“You will?”

“Yes, I will find you.”

Stunned and really turned on…”You will.”

“Yes, I am always watching.” He picks up his tray and mug from the table as he rises, I unintentionally look to his fly region… women do that.

“Yes, I have noticed..” I smile, though not hard I can make something out through the military issue sweatpants; which were awful by the way.
I stand to join him and leave, “We can talk about it…” I start to feel a bit distressed, as this quiet moment was ending. I would have to burn it into my memory for a little finger satisfaction later.
“I’ll see you Robinson…Jennings…” he casually waves as we part “Hope you enjoyed my package.” Then almost abruptly he stops, turns, and walks back towards me, prompting me to stop as well. He walks swiftly, coming up close to me… so close I could smell him. Instant gratification, I am so fucking hot right now I swear I’ll come if he so much as brushes against me. He advances to my ear, I tilt my head in to hear him, and he whispers “The lottery is coming, don’t enter it.”