My Second Tour of Duty

A few weeks after my one-night stand with the Soldier, he was having a going away party because he was being shipped out to Iraq. I went with two of my good friends and drove about 2 hours to drink and be merry with him and his friends. We partied at a VFW hall his family had rented out and then went to a sketchy studio apartment. From there, one of our friends shot off a fire extinguisher and got us kicked out. The Soldier at this point was obviously very drunk. Wouldn’t you be if you were being shipped to Iraq?

We went back to his apartment and stayed over. He was drunkenly groping all of us and could barely see straight. He blindly grabbed my hand and said, “I don’t know who’s hand I’m holding, but we’re going to go fuck in the bathroom.” Who says romance is dead? I laughed and pushed him away and said we were going to bed. I brought a body pillow and my sleeping bag with me to share with my two friends, but he inserted himself between us and fell asleep holding me in a death grip for a few hours. When he finally released and rolled away, my friends and I were treated to a symphony of snores. We were literally laughing our asses off at his loud snores. I’d reach over and hold his nose until they subsided, but he’d quickly pick up where he’d left off just moments after I released my hold.

Somehow everyone else, except for my friend and I, managed to fall asleep despite the loud rumblings coming from the Soldier. We just began having a conversation discussing the melodic rhythms and she said “Maybe we can sing to it?” At this, the Soldier yelled out in his sleep “No!” in an angry tone. We both laughed hysterically and he went on to add, “It’s just bacon!” We laughed uncontrollably until we finally fell asleep. Much like the last time I spent the night with the Soldier, he took my blanket from me and I was left freezing in the night.

We woke up the next morning and he kept trying to fuck me in the ass while my friends were asleep. Finally the sounds of my resistance woke them up and we then sat around laughing and talking, until finally he got restless and kicked them out of the house so that I could give him a proper send-off. They left, we had more incredible sex that he guilted me into (who can say no to someone who’s going to Iraq?), and I gave him a Saint Christopher medallion for protection. We went and sat downstairs and talked, waiting for my friends to return. I gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek and left.

While he was stationed at Ft. Dix surrounded by nothing but, I wrote him letters and sent him cookies and we talked online. He actually got to come home for a week, but I wasn’t able to see him. The last time I spoke to him, he abruptly cut the conversation short because he was “Going off to fuck some chick.” He’s overseas now; I think about him sometimes. I wish him the best and a quick and safe return, but I don’t foresee any further calls of booty duty. With our last conversation, I’m pretty sure I was honorably discharged from his service.