Jarhead on the Loose Ch. 04: Pet Sitting

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A Marine is asked for a personal favor with benefits.
3.7k words
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Part 4 of the 5 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 02/21/2018
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Friday had arrived in its anticipated glory. Friday the end of the week, the beginning of the end, two glorious days of not wearing camouflage, not listening to young Marines explain why they can't perform during training, not being the first one to greet their bleary eyes when they stumble out in the oh-dark-thirty morning for physical training. Hell, two days of not having to shave if I didn't wanna and two days where I didn't have to be the walking, living example of the modern proper Marine. A small slice of heaven and I was ready for it.

Being chief trainer, I'd stopped by my boss' office in the command post to fill him in on progress the current batch of Nods had made. I was heading back to my own humbler work space when I heard Lieutenant Kasarinski's voice from the open door I was passing.

"Hey, Gunny!"

As I wasn't the only Gunnery Sergeant in the battalion, it's conceivable that the lieutenant wasn't addressing me, but situation being what it was, I kinda figured it was a safe bet that was the case. Besides, even if it wasn't, this was an opportunity to talk to "The Kaz" as we called her. All five feet three inches, dark eyed, dark haired, somewhere in her mid-twenties, and suitably fit and curved bit of her.

I made a little Steve Martinesque production of backing up to stand in her hatch. Shifting gears, I used my Jack Webb monotone, "Yes, ma'am? You mean me, ma'am? Me, this gunny, ma'am? Not a different one, say Gunny Zimmerman, or Gunny Futrell?" All the while tapping my chest beside my name tag, the name she knew because, though she wasn't in my section, we were all on the same team. "Yes, ma'am, what can I do for you, ma'am?"

She was behind her austere grey functional government desk, leaning back in her chair, letting me go on while she tapped a black government pen against the arm of her chair. When I finally wound down, she said, "I was looking for a funny Gunny, but obviously I was mistaken." She waved her hand at me in a gesture of dismissal. "Carry on, Marine."

I sagged against the door jamb, hand over my heart, then staggered a step inside her office. "Damn, Lieutenant, that one hurt." She scrunched up her face in a fierce war-face and then relaxed into a smile. I straightened up and dropped the comedy. "Seriously, what can I do for you, Lieutenant?"

She had my attention besides the fact she had taken off her uniform jacket and was in her t-shirt in an effort to beat the desert heat. After all, she had her own batch of Marines working for her, including a gunny or two. If she had a project or other requirement, one of them should be where I was standing, not that I was anxious to give up my space. I was cautious in my admiration of the way cotton clung to the female shape.

"It's nothing official, so stop worrying about me shanghaiing you." She sat up a bit. "I hear you have a dog."

Wha...? "Yeahhh..." I didn't try to hide my perplexity and that got me a laugh where Jack Webb got me a counter-jibe.

"Well, I've got a dog too and next week I'm taking off on leave. I was wondering if you would mind doing a little dog-sitting."

As my mind went click she kept talking. "I know it's an imposition, but I haven't been able to find anyone to take Bonny and I hate boarding her. I thought since you're a dog owner, you might understand."

Sure, I understood. No dog owner likes to give over that boon companion to strangers, to be kept in a cage and left without a friend face or voice. However, in a way, I wasn't the one that had approval rights.

"You're lucky you caught me, Lieutenant. My boss just told me to get an early start on the weekend. No problem, I can take Bonny." I was hoping I wasn't accepting custody of an Irish Wolfhound or a close cousin. "but here's the problem, ma'am, and I think you know this - my dog and your dog have to get along."

She nodded, "Yeah, I thought of that, too."

I leaned over her desk, took the pen she had been holding and scrawled on a pad. "This is my address and the cross streets. I'll stick around at home, why don't you bring Bonny over when you get off and we'll see if she and Obie get along."

"Obie?"

I drew myself into an impressive height and looked at her with an imperious face. "Obie-Wan Justeenuf." I tweaked an eyebrow. "'The force is strong with this one.'" I relaxed and added, "If they don't, you have the whole weekend to make other arrangements."

"Sounds like a plan, Gunny."

"Ahhh, best laid plans..." I said, slipping the pen into my pocket.

She glanced at what I'd written. "Jesus, your handwriting sucks." She frowned at my scratchings. "Is this...? Oh, okay, I know where you are."

"Great. If I don't see you and Bonny by seven, I'll assume you changed your mind, ma'am."

"See you later, Guns."

With that, I resumed course back to my desk where I tied off some loose ends and passed the word from the boss to my Marines to knock off early. They lost no time taking up his offer. If I had said goodbye a second time I would have been talking to myself.

A little while later I was back at my place completing the home from work ritual with Obie, his part of which was made of a quick wrestling bout followed by his earning a piece of beef jerky by striking the right pose - up on hind legs with forelegs up and adjacent. Ahhhh, the sense of empowerment!

I told him we might have company and, on reflection, thought it might be a good idea to work off some of his energy he'd accumulated while I was gone. I tossed my jacket onto the couch, spawning a quick memory of The Kaz in her t-shirt, and took Obie into the front yard for some play. Yard play was different than floor play. On the floor we'd rough house but outside we'd chase and dodge each other. Obie was a long-haired mutt and I loved seeing his coat stream when he was at a full run.

There we were, me clumping up and down my corner lot in my combat boots, chasing or being chased by the last Jed-dog, getting sweaty and breathing hard, when a pale blue Audi pulled up to the curb. The familiar face behind the wheel caused me to check my watch. An hour had flown by and I was caught flat-footed, not quite ready for guests.

The Kaz popped out and waved at me. Normally Marines are near fanatics about uniforms and courtesies, but I wasn't wearing a cover so couldn't salute and for some reason neither was she, so it's not like she could have returned it. I called Obie over from where he'd been staring at the stranger, took a knee and hooked a finger under his collar. I could see The Kaz had opened the rear passenger door which I took to mean she was hooking her dog onto a leash.

Sure enough, the two of them came into view when they rounded the back of the Audi and I had to quickly grab some Jack Webb. Bonny was a gorgeous example of German Shepherd, all black and tan, high tail and perked up ears. She quickly focused on Obie who had already put some strain on my restraining finger. I could see The Kaz was concentrating on her dog's reaction which suited me just fine because I was even less prepared for The Kaz than I had thought. She must have hustled through her end of day routine right after I left, gone home and scooped up her dog. She was still wearing the t-shirt, but it was wet from her workout sweat and her camouflage trousers had vanished in favor of the usual snug Marine nylon running shorts. If I had any suspicions that the baggy uniform combat uniform was hiding imperfections, they were instantly dispelled.

"Evening, ma'am," I said when they got a little closer. It was the greeting that would have accompanied the salute had I given one.

"Good evening, Gunny," she replied, equally formulaic. After that we went to the cautious business of introducing Bonny to Obie. I was worried that Obie would feel threatened by Bonny's size. Kaz muttered something about Bonny still being a pup and full of enthusiasm. The signs of hostility or defensiveness failed to materialize and we relaxed a little as the dogs sniffed and whined. So far, so good.

"Lieutenant, my back yard is fenced, why don't we take them back there, take 'em off the leash and see what happens?"

"Hah! That almost sounds like we're giving them liberty! Lead the way," she said, so I did. Soon enough the two dogs were doing what new dogs meeting do and we humans were side by side, watching from behind the sliding glass door. They started to play and we both relaxed, letting out breaths I had not realized we had been holding.

"Looks like the plan worked, Gunny," she said with a smile.

"Oooh-rah, I love it when a plan comes together," I said looking down at her, "Care for a victory drink?"

"Got Gatorade? I should stay away from anything stronger."

"Is the Pope Polish?"

"No, but God is."

"Two points for the lady in green," I said, "Have a seat."

I went to the refrigerator.

"Are you sure? I'm a little wet."

Don't I wish, I paused, my hand on the plastic bottle, grateful for the white door blocking her view of me. I'm not sure what she would have seen as my reaction, but it was best that she didn't have the chance.

"Sure, go ahead."

I closed the fridge door and held up the Gatorade. "I've got green and I've got green, which do you want?"

"You're in luck. I'm partial to green."

"In that case," I said, pulling two glasses from the cupboard, "I'll join you."

I poured and gave her a quick once over, not bothering to be discreet.

"Let me guess, you ran a quick three before you left work, right? In the afternoon heat, by yourself, without a running buddy." I frowned and rolled my eyes as if pondering.

"Hmmm, now let's see, which base safety order does that violate?" I set a glass before her. "Oh, yeah, the one that says 'Thou shalt not run alone when the mercury riseth above the degree marketh as four score and ten.'. Cheers." and we toasted, "Here's to a quick war or a bloody plague."

She downed a third of hers even though I could see she was ready for the whole thing.

"I guess I deserve a spanking for being a bad girl," she said as her lips made a moue. She didn't wait for a response before moving on.

"That's just a pussy rule for people who haven't acclimated. It's not even a hundred out there, I've been here long enough to know the danger signs."

I glanced at her sweat darkened green uniform t-shirt. And shorts. And legs. And looked up to meet her eyes. She took another hit of 'ade.

"Are you sensing any danger now, Lieutenant?"

"Now that you mention it, Gunny," she said, "I am feeling a little hot, but I kind of like it."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Lieutenant, I didn't realize you liked the heat. Want I should turn the air conditioning off?" I took a step toward the wall with the thermostat. Her hand shot out and grabbed my arm.

"Don't you fuckin' dare! I'm glad you suggested coming inside so I wasn't forced to invent an excuse to get through the door."

By now all the little bits and pieces of the last couple hours had begun to swirl in my head and from far away inside my head, I heard the clanging of an alarm bell. I took a pull from my glass, she did the same, and my blue eyes were looking into her brown eyes. We were still at it when her hand left my arm to grip the wet material of her shirt and pull it away in a quick fluffing motion which she accompanied with a "Whew!"

Naturally my eyes were drawn to the movement. Come on, it's an involuntary response, some day why don't you try to not look at something that suddenly moves. I looked just in time to see the wet cotton mold itself to her breasts and make pointed reminders that the air conditioning was, indeed, running at full blast and that she had, somewhere, lost the PT bra I knew she must have worn during her run.

She was already smiling when I jerked my eyes upward. The sight was enough to push my libido, already leaning forward, into action. I felt my blood surge, my heart start to pound, and my throat go tight. Worse, I felt a stiffness coming on and had no chance to make a face-saving adjustment. I tried to buy some time. I took her glass and turned for the sink. As soon as my back was to her, I felt her hand hook my belt and stop me in my tracks.

"I had always said were a pretty smart man, Gunny," she said, pulling me back. "Are you trying to make me a liar?"

Be cool, be cool, I thought.

"I like to think of myself as cunning, not necessarily smart"

Her body pressed against my back, her breasts spreading against me.

The hand on my belt stayed where it was and the mate slid over my hip, moving forward.

"Really?" she cooed, "Then what's this?" Her fingers yanked from my pocket the pen I'd absent-mindedly put there while in her office. She held before me as if it were a smoking gun. I felt her chin pressed into my shoulder blade and the scent of her wrapped around me.

"A cunning excuse to come back to your office," I said. I put the glasses on the counter, took the pen from her hand and dropped it into one of the glasses, then took a half step forward, turning to face her. Outside the dogs were yapping excitedly.

I put my hands on her hips, my thumbs laying on top of those bones that some of us men find so alluring. Her hands went to my belt loops. I moved her so that her bottom was against the drawers, the counter edge in her lower back. Again, blue played with brown, this time two pairs of hands were invited as well.

"Are you really going on leave next week?" I asked, sliding my thumbs along the waistband of her running shorts.

She nodded, "Absolutely, going back to see my folks." Her hands slid around my backside and cupped my ass. "So I really need a dog-sitter."

I tugged her t-shirt from where it was tucked into her shorts and touched the skin beneath. "You sure about this?"

Her hands squeezed my backside and one moved around to squeeze the frontside.

"I'm not your boss, you're not my subordinate, we don't work together. No conflict, no frat."

My hands moved up the muscles of her back, her sweat mingling with mine, the shirt bunching and gathering as my hand moved higher. "I'm ten years older than you," as her breasts fell free of the material.

"Then you have ten more years of experience to share. Isn't that what gunnies are supposed to do? Show young lieutenants the ropes?" Her hand was busy with my buckle, then my fly. "These are in the way." she muttered before I kissed her.

It's possible that without the air conditioning we would have spontaneously combusted. As it was, we couldn't get my trousers all the way off. That would have required taking my boots off and anyone familiar with combat boots knows that would have taken entirely too much time. That's okay, we didn't actually get her shorts off either, so things were equal.

Our first time was right there, in my small kitchen. She dropped my pants to form a green puddle around the tops of my boots, I caught her when she hopped up, wrapping her legs around me, grinding onto my hardness. Together we pulled the gusset of her shorts aside, and down she sank onto that stiffness I had developed earlier, but which had gotten much, much solid. She wasn't quite correct in her earlier self-description. She was more than a little wet, she was sopping.

From that point on we held on, her hips gyrating, riding me, mine thrusting, filling her. When the motion wasn't too violent our mouths would find one another, but the kisses wouldn't last long as we needed to breathe. Somehow, her t-shirt came off and I found out how sensitive her nipples were. Then we got mine off and she showed me how sharp her teeth were. I was happy to find I wouldn't have to teach her the pleasures of pain during pleasure.

There's something glorious about being in excellent physical condition and your partner being the same. It's almost as if there are no barriers and anything is possible. I would lean back and she would do the same, my shaft sinking deeply into her as she arched backward. I would stand, tilting my hips just enough to form a small lap and she would rotate her hips, rolling her ass over my balls, massaging the length of me as if her vagina was a tight fist. I would cup her bottom and lift and lift, then drop her, thrusting to impale her, then repeat over again. Sometimes I would pull her down and punch hard with my hips, jabbing into her softness as she bit my shoulder.

When we knocked the glasses from the counter so that they broke. Neither of us flinched, we were lost in our rutting. I had a vague idea I had a perfectly good bed, but I wasn't going anywhere before we had pushed each other over the edge. Oh, hell no, we weren't going anywhere until that happened. She hit hers with her legs bent double, my cock socketed fully inside her. Once I felt her cum, biting my shoulder, I was right behind her.

Before I could leave, we had to get my damned boots off to unfetter my legs. She knelt down to unlace them, and as long as she was down there, she took other matters into her hands and mouth. Eventually, both I and the boots got off, but not before I ruined her French braid and made her face wetter.

We left our clothes in the kitchen and dining nook, and almost made it to the bedroom before I decided one good turn deserved another. I pushed her against the back of the couch, bending her over it and went to my knees behind her. My thumbs went to her inner thighs and her gasp of surprise gave way to other sounds when my mouth covered her lips, putting my tongue into play once again. Her legs spread further, her knees riding higher until she was almost perched on the couch, her palms pressing onto the seat cushion, her face into the sofa which swallowed the screams she would sometimes give off. The dogs were whining at the glass door.

When I thought she was ready, I stood and aligned my cock with her very wet pussy. By now, though, she'd had enough of acrobatics. She slid away from me, grabbed both my hands and tugged me into the bedroom. There she ripped the linens from the bed, climbed atop on hands and knees. She looked at me over her shoulder and said, "Okay, now finish what you started."

Easier said than done. We had months of mutual attraction created pressure to vent. Once the control was gone there was no reason to hold back, not that we tried. We were in prime condition and it took a very long time, filled with variations major and minor before we were finally spent, laying atop damp tangled sheets. The dogs had gone to sleep, and I felt myself tumbling that way myself.

She lay in the crook of my left arm, her face on my chest, her hair covering my lower face, her leg draped over mine so that her thigh was against what was left of my manhood. She kissed my skin and flicked her tongue across my nipple.

I moaned, "No, I can't. Really. Well, not right now, anyway." My hand cupped her breast, allowing her nipple to peek out between my fingers which I alternately squeezed together and plucked.

"When does your leave start?" I said.

"Monday," she said and slowly sank her teeth into me my chest until I gasped and pulled away.

"Wanna stay here until?"

"Don't I have to?" she asked.

"Have to?" I was confused. "What do you mean 'have to'"?

"Sure, what if the dogs have a falling out? What if they fight? I gotta be sure it's a good fit, that means I have to stay here. Right?"

I laughed, shaking her. "Tomorrow, Lieutenant. By tomorrow we'll know for sure."

"Good. Good. By the way, it's Dorota."

"Dorota?"

"Polish for Dorothy."

"Ohhhh, Dorothy. John."

"Yeah, I know... but thanks. Pleased to meet you"

I kissed her. She kissed back.

Her thigh moved against my shaft and I, unexpectedly, reacted. She reached down and gripped my resurgent member.

"John, are you sure tomorrow is enough time?"

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