Going to the border

They have just arrived in the military camp. From the distance they could hear the faint sound of gunfire. The mirages were flying overhead, dropping their bombs kilometers away, but still they could hear some of the explosions. It was evident that they have arrived in the warzone. Since they only arrived today, they have the rest of the day to spend whichever way they saw fit. There were some restrictions though. They always had to be dressed in uniform and none of them were allowed to leave the camp.

After she had unpacked her bags, Rebel went off for an orientating walk inside the camp. She was especially interested in the huge hospital tent, as that is where she would be working every day. The tent had different partitions, dividing it into ‘rooms’. There was even an operating theater that was only used for the wounded that needed emergency operations before they could be airlifted to a proper hospital. Walking farther to the back of the hospital tent she discovered a small kitchen. Right next to it was a ‘room’ that was used by the personnel during breaks. Rebel walked back to the ‘kitchen’, grabbed herself a cup of coffee and walked back to the canteen. She was just starting to read in one of the old magazines on the table, when she heard someone enter behind her.

It was the man she spotted on the plane on their way to the camp. When they landed and got into the trucks to drive the rest of the trip to the camp, she had lost sight of him. As she turned around to look at him, he had the same mysterious smile on his face that he had in the plane. She felt the same wetness between her legs as she did when they stole glances towards each other while they were airborne. He walked towards her and gave her a hand.

“I am Captain Lewis,” he introduced himself, “the camp surgeon.”
Rebel melted. She stammered as she told him who she was.
“Then we will work together,” he spoke again while still holding her hand, “providing we are scheduled for the same shift.”
It seemed as if he was reluctant to let go of her hand, but there was no reason for him to hold it any longer. He walked around to the kitchen, got a cup of coffee and sat down across from her. The air was filled with sexual overtones. After a couple of minutes of doing their best to ignore the presence of the other, he stood up and walked towards the big supply cabinet in the corner. She looked at him quizzically when he kneeled next to the cabinet and then her eyes grew with surprise.

From behind the cabinet a tear in the tent appeared. The captain beckoned for Rebel to follow him. Without hesitations, she did. Immediately they were between trees and scrubs. Even if someone was looking in this direction, they would not have been able to see them – both because of the height of the scrubs and their camouflage uniforms. They were not walking along the path for long before he grabbed her hand and pulled her in between some dense scrubs. Only about ten meters away from the path they were just walking on, they came to a clearing between the trees and scrubs. It was obvious that this clearing was man-made. Once inside, there was no way someone could find them unless they knew about the clearing.

He turned around, pulled her into his arms and started kissing her. Her feeble fighting was not convincing. She kissed him back, wanting him just as much as he wanted her. Pushing her down on the soft grass and straw inside the clearing, she totally surrendered to him. He hastily unbuttoned her shirt and pushed her bra cups down to expose her breasts. With his mouth on her hard nipples he unbuttoned her pants and pushed his hand deep into her panties to find her waiting wetness. She sighed and tried to spread her legs to give him more access. Her pants prevented her from doing so.

Rebel pushed down on her pants. The captain stood up on his knees and hastily started to undress. He kept his boots and socks on; his pants were pushed down around his ankles. He turned around to find Rebel standing there totally naked. A low growl escaped his throat when he roughly pulled her towards him and kissed her again. He lay down on his back, pulling her down with him. His cock was hard, pointing upwards, begging for attention. Rebel slipped her hand towards it, but he shook his head and broke off their kissing.

“Suck me,” he said. She turned around to do as he asked. In one movement he pushed his arm under her hips and lifted her legs up in the air. He lowered her on his face. Her knees were on either side of his head; his tongue was already buried in her cunt. She moaned with pleasure when she took his rigid member in her mouth, tasting his saltiness. Rebel circled her tongue around his cock and flicked it over his frenulum. His growling got louder. She bobbed her head up and down, sucking and licking, savoring his taste and enjoying the sensations his mouth caused in her pussy.

He fucked her with his tongue. He sucked her clitoris between his lips. He lightly bit her clitoris and her labia. His hands were around Rebel’s hips, holding her down, pulling her buttocks apart – allowing air to brush across her asshole. It was a nice sensation – the air, the pulling of her flesh, the stimulation of her asshole. Combined with the hard sucking of her clitoris, Rebel felt as if she was in heaven. She mimicked his movements. When he sucked her, she sucked his cock and balls. When he fucked her with his tongue, she flicked her tongue around the head of his cock at the same pace as his fucking.

The captain pulled her down harder, spreading her ass cheeks even further and sucked her clitoris hard, not letting go of it. She sucked his cock. Their growling and moaning mixed into a symphony of lust until it exploded in a crescendo of orgasms. Only after a couple of minutes they heard the sounds of the mirages still flying over and the faint sounds of gunfire coming from the border. The sounds had been there all the time, but were not noticed. Even though she was in a warzone, Rebel had the feeling that she would enjoy her time there…

When I saw the prompt for this week’s Wank Wednesday, I virtually clapped in my hands and exclaimed “oh goodie”. Now I have to put a piece of history down here, otherwise you will not understand what connotation the word ‘border’ has for me. Back in another lifetime, when someone spoke of ‘going to the border’, they meant that they had to go to war. They then spoke of the war on the border between Angola and South Africa. For those interested, read more here.




PS: This week’s prompt for Wank Wednesday was #border.

© Rebel’s Notes

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