Relations

This thing between them had been dying from the onset. Slowly and pitifully. He knew it and she had just begun to realize it. Still, even without the cover of ignorance, neither made an attempt to end the relationship. Both had done it too many times before-just walked away-and didn't seem eager to repeat the dramatics. Life could be hard and lonely. It was nice to have a guaranteed bed to fall into at the end of the night, even if that bed was always to be abandoned before dawn.


Lynelle's little pink tongue traced the tumescent head of Jack's cock as carefully as if she were using a paintbrush to create a masterpiece. Playful, attentive strokes and tracings became bolder until suddenly her mouth engulfed him to the root. An appreciative groan escaped him as her nose buried in his crinkly, musky pubic hair. He closed his eyes and lay back on the pillow, thinking about the next day's training schedule. Soon enough, Lynelle would get his full attention back. She was good at what she did. Jack never had any complaints, except when he wondered if he even really liked Lynelle. A good lay was one thing, but a person that actually captured his likes and interests was something that Jack's complex character had difficulty consolidating.

"Yeah...uhhh, babe." Jack rasped, the gathering heat in his loins turning him back into a simple-minded man who just wanted to come. Greedily, his hips fucked Lynelle's throat, lodging the thick head far enough to choke most women. She just gagged a little and controlled it. Perverse as it may have been, that uncontrollable reflex felt great and turned him on to the blow job that much more.

"Ohh...Fuck!" He came upon his elbow and tangled a hand in her auburn curls when she deftly began to massage his perineum. Up and down, Jack assisted Lynelle with her shallow bobbing. "Suck me Lynn...gonna make me cum. Harder baby...take it all!"

In earnest, she complied, her hands sliding under his ass to grasp his cheeks and pull them apart, his hole open and exposed. Lynelle put her mouth over the pucker and slid her tongue inside. When he was sufficiently lubricated, two of her fingers slid up his ass while her lips went back to his throbbing, leaking erection. But not before giving Jack a smug grin. She knew when he was out of his mind, his ass twitching around her digits, his cock streaming precum, his big, muscular body tense and ready to snap. She knew when she had him and so proceeded to suck the life from him. Jack's hips bucked, he cried out and shook then froze, emptying his balls and fucking himself on Lynelle's slim fingers. All of his viscous, hot cum splattered down her throat, in a copious slither of sleep-inducing release.

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Jack was sitting at a table in a quiet corner of the bar. He appeared to be watching the basketball game, but he was actually silently berating himself for having stayed at Lynelle's apartment for so long that night. Bastard that he was realizing himself to be, he preferred to be a 'cum and go' man where she was concerned. And here he had fallen asleep after a blowjob...like an inexperienced, adoring schoolboy. Jesus! He would really be glad to get this SEAL instructor assignment over with so he could go back to his team in Coronado. Jack missed those bunch of sick fucks-his brothers. But who knew when his time would come to get back in the field? He was ready...had been for months, but his platoon commander was leery. Jack smiled wryly and shook his head. Yeah, his commander considered this assignment as an instructor to be a sort of convalescence. To Jack it was a punishment for doing his job well and damned near dying in the process.

He was going to signal the waitress for a final Killian's draft when he saw her walk in. For a moment, Jack could only stare at the young woman as she slid a shapely, denim-clad behind onto a stool at the bar. A matching denim corset-like top barely covered the lushness of her torso. She was spectacularly beautiful, but that wasn't why Jack stared. He had never seen her look this way before. Like a grown woman; not the 21 year-old assistant to the martial arts training supervisor who taught new recruits. This was not the pony tailed dynamo in mismatched workout clothes who punched muscle bound men on the hip and ordered them to "fix your stance" or "concentrate on the muscles used in this sequence, not just how fast you can kill somebody." This was not the young, reserved person whose presence shocked the shit out of him about six months prior.

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So far, Gigi had met everyone, except the Command Master Chief, who facilitated training at the brand new Navy SEAL compound-Rock Island Station in Santa Octavia, California-outside San Francisco. That was not a problem, since she assumed the big guy with the intimidating swagger, approaching herself and the base commander was the man who had been missing all morning due to a myriad of responsibilities. His purposeful stride alone sparked Gigi's interest. He was a little over six feet and built like an all-pro tight end in his prime, yet he moved as gracefully as if he had been born with all those striated sinews. But graceful was in no way understated. This guy moved like a predator onto his prey. Calculating, determined and lethal. While his considerable biceps and barrel chest strained his navy issued tee shirt, Gigi was almost mesmerized by his short pants. All the instructors wore them, but on the Master Chief's long, thick, hairy legs, they seemed shorter and more snug. Was that his...?

Hiding a mischievous grin, she gave full attention to his face. He didn't look happy. Yeah, she heard he had a 'thing' about women mixing with the SEAL program. Well, screw him and his caveman attitude too. She wasn't working for this mustachioed misogynist anyway, just with him occasionally. All unvoiced preconceptions aside, he had a nice face, what was visible around those creepy reflector sunglasses. High slashing cheekbones, square cleft chin. Face as sculpted as his body. Gigi also heard the chief was pushing forty. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Jack came to a halt before Commander Ryan and gave a sharp salute which was returned about as half-assed as most officers give to subordinates. Jack could tell the bantam female had been sizing him up as he approached, so he pretended to ignore her until Commander Ryan introduced her. Actually, behind his shades, he took in her appearance up close. Was everybody thinking with their dicks when this decision was made? Who the fuck would think it was a good idea to throw a girl--she wasn't more than eighteen--into this wolfpack of men on a military base? And a civilian at that!

Ryan turned to Gigi with a fatherly smile, "Master Chief Urgayle, this is our new training assistant, Gigi Giancarlo," then turned a pointed gaze back to Jack. "Lee's best student."

All three of them were aware that statement was added to make a point.

Jack turned his head and stared at Gigi just a second too long behind those sunglasses. Slowly the shades were removed and hooked on the front of his tee shirt. "Good to meet you Miss Giancarlo." A remote Texan drawl accentuated his deep voice, while his aqua colored eyes branded her. He sounded exactly like what he was; a man who had grown up in the South and lived away for many years, maybe too long. A big hand was extended in greeting.

Gigi took the offered hand and gave it her usual firm shake. He had warm, surprisingly soft hands although there were some visible scars. She peered up into his face. The whole package came together nicely without the intimidator shades. The Master Chief was a sternly handsome man and that was as plainly as Gigi could describe him. But those odd colored eyes defined him. Pretty, haunting and cool. "Likewise, Master Chief." Her own slightly husky voice held a distinctly east coast flavor. "I look forward to working with you and your recruits."

You shouldn't be here. That was all Jack could think. Miss Gigi Giancarlo was too beautiful for this kind of environment. Her long, jet hair gleamed silkily in the sun, secured in a thick braid down her back and she had the widest, greenest, most wondering eyes he had ever seen, although he was sure she was hardly ingenious. Somehow she sweet talked her way through the gate. Even the commander was already grinning at the girl like an idiot, like a proud dad who thought incest was just misunderstood familial love.
He spoke briefly to Ryan in a hushed tone, then gave Gigi a fleeting head to toe gaze that was meant to put her off kilter. With a curt nod, more of dismissal than anything else, Jack said, "Then welcome to the Rock, ma'am."

He turned and walked away, the predator stalk in full effect. Gigi was put off for just a second. What? Welcome to the Rock? Didn't Sean Connery say that in a movie once? Boy, this guy was serious. And what was that look all about? And how did he get that little scar on his top lip? What did the other guy look like afterwards? All of these thoughts were forgotten when Gigi spied Jack from the back. Looked good coming and going. Broad shoulders, slim hips, long legs and now his ass...in those shorts. A really great ass in really little shorts. Maybe working around that one wouldn't be so bad, as long as he kept any messed up sexually biased opinions to himself. Yeah, welcome to the Rock. Hoo-Ya!!!