Secret Sins Ch. 02

"It was nothing," she practically scoffed. "Lots of guys do it- I'm sure you know what I'm talking about- It's just that it surprised me coming from him, being Salvation Army and all. He seemed like a really nice man, though. Pretty good looking, too."

"Yes, that... is surprising," I stumbled before my composure could again regain its balance to defend him and cover up any improprieties that may or may not have been in her mind about the Major and me. "I never got that from him, he was nothing short of totally professional with me. Are you certain?"

"Uh- yeah," she assured. "Like I said, I've had enough guys check me out that I'd know when it's happening by now."

"I'm sorry," was the only thing I could reply with, mentally kicking myself for establishing his guilt by apologising for him.

With a shrug and her usual smile, she returned, "Like I said, it was nothing. Happens all the time. Sooo... what about the beach?"

"What?" I asked, relieved to see that it really wasn't any big thing to her, but still distracted enough to be somewhat lost by her change of topic.

"What would you wear to the beach?"

"Oh. Well... I'd probably be wise to wear a pretty boring, one piece suit that covers as much as possible."

"But, what would you want to wear?" Donna asked with a knowing grin.

"Uhhh, well, something... more revealing."

"How revealing?"

" ... Within what the law of the land allows."

We both grinned at this, she chuckling as I blushed, each of us knowing exactly what I meant by that.

"Yeah, me too," she said. "Can I ask you another personal question?"

"Geez, I'm not sure," I almost giggled.

Still blushing I was more than a little surprised and embarrassed that I'd answered her last question so truthfully. After all, dressing indecently went beyond flouting Army policy. It was unedifying of myself and The Lord, and my shameful attraction to the idea of doing it wasn't something that I was any more proud of than my porn addiction. Beyond that, however, I was just happy that the subject had changed from the Major.

"Are you allowed to have a boyfriend?"

"Uh... well yes, but... Officers can only marry other Officers."

"Seriously?" she asked, her expression surprised and obviously disapproving of this policy.

"Yes," I replied. "The Army believes that a married Officer can better dedicate him or herself to The Lord's work when their spouse is on the same page and on the same team, if you know what I mean. I know how it seems, but it's actually pretty practical. I mean, imagine yourself as an Officer and, all of a sudden, you get shipped to a new posting across the country? Your spouse has to give up his or her job and everything to follow you, and that happens often throughout an Officer's career. When you're a team with your spouse, that's not an issue and everyone stays happy."

"I suppose," Donna admitted. "Still, though..."

I shrugged, taking another sip from my coffee before saying, "There's a lot of sacrifices that come with the uniform, but there's a lot of rewards too."

"But what about boyfriends?" she asked.

"As long as they're fellow Officers, and its best not to have very many before settling down and marrying one. And, of course, we're not allowed to have pre-marital sex."

"Not allowed?"

"It's scriptural," I shrugged.

"Wow. So, have you ever even had a boyfriend?"

"No."

"Jeesh. No offense, but I don't know if I should be impressed or sympathetic. Don't you ever get... well... horny?"

I only shrugged with a noncommittal smile.

"Wow," she repeated, shaking her head as she added, "I couldn't hack it. No way. I mean, boyfriends can sometimes get on the ole nerves, and it's sure great to be single for a while, but I couldn't imagine... So, I suppose you'd really like to meet some cute Officer and get married, huh?"

"It's a little more complicated than that," I supplied, instantly wishing I hadn't.

"How so?"

"I just- It's hard to explain."

"Doesn't the Army have conventions and stuff? Functions where single Officers can meet and... get married, I guess?"

"Yes," I answered with a laugh, "It's not quite that cut and dry, but they know they have to provide opportunities for Officers to get together and, within the confines of policy, they actually encourage it."

"I imagine all the other male Officers are fighting each other for your hand in marriage."

"I have... very high standards," I told her, briefly picturing myself in uniform with my skirt hiked to my waist, blouse opened up and having my pussy pounded by one Officer while sucking the cock of another. (Was that really what I'd want out of a marriage?)

"Nothing wrong with that," she told me.

As uncomfortable as parts of that conversation were, I felt that we were both a lot more relaxed around each other on account of it and, despite how Hurdle had warned me about not making friends out of underlings, she was quickly becoming one anyway.

It's probably not surprising. Between my early commitment to the Army, and moving constantly, I lacked friends throughout most of my life. Even Kayla, the girl who'd unknowingly introduced me to my obsession with porn, hadn't been that close a friend and, as an adult, it was really nice to be able to have an open conversation with someone as I had with Donna. What was more, I could tell that, beyond her respect for me as her employer, she actually liked me, and that felt good too. So, where was the harm?

I wanted to get our shield out and planted first thing, but Donna and I agreed that the heavy, red enamel paint wasn't yet quite dry enough, so we went back to the kitchen to throw ideas back and forth about that room before getting into my car to visit the hardware store. We returned with two rolls of plastic sheeting, white appliance spray-paint, a five gallon bucket of primer, two gallons of medium khaki green for the kitchen walls, a can of white for the cupboards and trim, and all the paraphernalia one needs for interior painting.

We worked hard and were able to finish up at nine pm, Donna staying late to continue working with me even though I'd made it clear that the Army wouldn't be paying her past five o'clock.

And it looked great, especially the cupboards and trim. It looked almost like a new kitchen, and I was so proud of our work and had such a good time getting it done with her that I couldn't wait for the next morning so we could do the small bathroom and then get started on the living room.

In fact, I was so hyper that I didn't even bother with porn when I went to bed that evening, instead putting on a short, pink lace babydoll with no panties. Lying on my bed, I fantasized about myself wearing a pair of tight hip huggers like Donna's and a white, strapless halter top while tied to a post, my hands behind my back. This was unusual because I rarely feature in my own fantasies, but understandable with Major Hurdle's hand fondling between my legs, massaging and squeezing through my dream hip huggers as I jerked and moaned, begging him to let me go with my boobs slowly falling out of my halter top. I cried out repeatedly when I came, loving the privacy of my own residence, until I lay on my bed, writhing and massaging my boobs with a satisfied smile that soon turned to a shameful frown and prayers for forgiveness.

I was guiltily wondering about my unusual and particularly shameful fantasy the next morning while waiting for Donna's arrival. Not only am I rarely in my own fantasies, but I never include real people, at least I hadn't until that night. What had changed? How did the Major and I end up playing starring roles in that degenerate little screenplay of my mind, and what did it mean? Did I have a thing for him? Yes, I'd been anticipating my next meeting with him, thinking of how handsome he was and how he had such reassuring confidence in me, not to mention that stab of jealousy when Donna told me of how he'd checked her out, but he was married and off limits. My anticipation, as I kept reminding myself, was unfounded, immoral and shameful. Maybe it was only that I'd allowed him to ogle me, that he would obviously do so again and that I'd pretty much have to allow it because I'd set that precedent, and because (let's face it) I liked it. It was a new thing for me, acting that way with a man, out of character, and I supposed that it was only natural that it would fire my imagination in a more personal direction. And after all, that was all it was, just my imagination, right? A harmless fantasy. Right?

Dressed in another pair of skin-tight jeans, Donna's top was a yellow blouse that she'd left unbuttoned far enough to allow a bare glimpse of cleavage. Once again, it was decent while still sexy, and I frowned at my frumpy jeans and yet another boring, Salvation Army polo top. Even unbuttoning the three buttons at the neck didn't change its boring status, and I couldn't help but again feel envy for her clothing freedom as I tried to be a lot more careful about peeking down her top.

We'd decided that the sign was dry enough and went about planting that out front in the grassy corner where the sidewalk intersected with the house's walkway. It looked great and Donna stood beside it, mock saluting me before we once again set off for the hardware store.

We returned with six gallons of semi-gloss white for the bathroom and the living room, a gallon of dark brown for all the dingy white trim and a gallon of beige for the front entry. Given the size of the bathroom and the extremely limited maneuvering room it offered, Donna suggested that she take on that task by herself while I got started on the living room. I agreed and got right to it, soon finding that I missed the fun banter between us that I'd gotten used to. She finished up in the bathroom by five o'clock, by which time I'd managed to prime the living room's walls and ceiling, then paint the trim and cut the walls in with the white. It was a lot of work and, by then, neither of us felt like pushing on into the evening.

"I don't feel like I accomplished as much today," I complained at the kitchen table.

"We did," she refuted, "it's just that it doesn't seem that way."

"You did," I clarified. "You've been great, a real godsend."

"Well, thanks, but you got a lot done too, Lieutenant. Keep in mind that the kitchen isn't as big as the living room, and we were both in here working on it together until nine in the evening. That bathroom is small and it's all one colour, so that was pretty easy to get done in the time I did, but the living room is bigger and with all that trim... yeah, you did good in the time you worked."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

"I suppose you're right. I just like to see results, is all."

"You will tomorrow. By the way, I was wondering: What are your personal living quarters like? I mean, based on what we're dealing with down here, I've been wondering what you're living with up there. You know I'll help you out with that too, right?"

"Thanks, but I can't let you do that."

"Why not?"

"Because, like you said, that's my personal space, and I can't use your labour up there."

"I don't expect to get paid," she said as though I ought to know better at that point. "We could get to work up there in the evenings, or on the weekends if you like."

"That's very nice of you, Donna, but I couldn't-"

"Don't be silly," she scoffed with a wave of her hand. "I told you, I like this kind of work, and... well, I like you. Especially how you're always peeking down my top and checking me out."

My jaw parted a little, that hot flush beginning to work its way up my body as I began to desperately think of some kind of defence.

"It's okay," she said, looking at my chest with a slightly leering grin. "I take it as a compliment, and it isn't as though I haven't been checking you out too. You're a hot little thing, Lieutenant."

That flush rolled right over me, perspiration beading on my forehead and upper lip as I gasped, "I-I'm not a lesbian!"

"It's alright," she assured with a light chuckle, looking at my face again. "It's normal for women to sometimes be attracted to one another, even if they aren't lesbians."

"It is?" I mumbled, grabbing a clean rag to mop my brow while I wished I could just die then and there.

"Of course. Look, maybe I shouldn't have said anything; you seem quite bothered by it and, aside from the fact that you're my boss, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable around me. We get along well, and I... well, I like you."

Our eyes met, and I could easily read the sincerity in what she'd said.

"Don't be embarrassed," she said with her comfortable smile and sparklingly pretty eyes. "Just relax. I'm a friend."

I found myself relaxing as she'd suggested until I was able to return her smile, replying, "I like you too, Donna. You're pretty cool."

Her only answer was a wider smile and, after a pause, she asked, "So, how about it?"

"...Huh?" I asked, finding myself in a bit of a stupor.

"Your living quarters," Donna reminded.

"Oh. Uh, it's really not that bad up there," I told her, somehow over my shock and embarrassment. (I hadn't even denied my attraction to her.) "Better than down here. You wanna see?"

"Sure."

Obviously, she had to agree with my assessment of the upper level as compared to downstairs, though she did take immediate issue with a few things.

"You don't have any blinds or curtains, and you haven't even set up your furniture."

"Too tired from working downstairs to bother with that right now," I explained, adding, "Besides, my bedroom does have curtains and, for now, it's really all I need."

"You can't live in one room. You need a nice personal place to relax after working your ass off all day," she countered, strolling into the kitchenette. "This is nice... Yeah, I'll help you out up here. Whatever you need."

"You really don't have to," I said. "I'm used to my little dorm room at CFOT anyway. At least here I have my own bathroom."

"No, we'll make a party out of it," she insisted as she left the kitchenette, heading for the short hallway. "We'll have fun, and we can do a lot up here. You'll see. So, let's see this bathroom."

With a surrendering smile, I followed, listening to her ooh and aah over the big tub, telling me that we could get a special kind of paint that would make it look like brand new and, as she put it, 'fit for an Officer'.

Then she turned and crossed the hall, stopping in the open doorway of my bedroom as she looked around, saying, "Sparse, but nice. Nice big bed. Yup, there's lots and lots of potential up here, Lieutenant Watts. We could really..."

I saw what had distracted Donna in the same second her words trailed off and, with her body blocking the doorway, I couldn't even get around her and inside the room to hide the evidence of my secret sin. With the early evening light shining directly through my bedroom window, my entire lingerie collection was on display in the closet, both its double doors wide open for public viewing. I was speechless, another hot flush spreading over my entire body as she slowly entered the room, approaching the closet for a better look.

"Holy shit, Lieutenant Watts... I mean, excuse my language, but I'd never have guessed at this. Not from a girl who won't even wear tight jeans."

"Uh, that's uh..." I tried to explain, only to end up with my face in my hand so she couldn't see my total humiliation as she gingerly leafed through the loaded hangers of my collection.

"This is some really nice stuff... Again, I never would have guessed that you'd-"

She stopped abruptly and I had to look up to see what part of my sinful obsession had interrupted her. Likely, it was the translucent bras, the lace bodysuit, or (God forgive me) the crotchless black panties. But she'd approached me with a sympathetic smile, her head cocked to the side as she reached out to lay a hand on my shoulder.

"Lieutenant, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have... Look, I can see you're embarrassed, and I guess I can understand why, but... you have no need to be. Lots of women have and like wearing lingerie, myself included. Granted, I don't have a collection like yours, but there's absolutely nothing wrong with it, and I'm so sorry if I embarrassed you again."

I'd taken my hand away from my face, but I looked down at the floor and slightly away from her. I was still speechless, unable to accept her apology or convey anything at all as my hot flush had me practically swimming in my own clothes.

"Really, you have nothing to be ashamed about. You're so young, and with your tits and ass, I bet all this stuff looks super-hot on you. Okay, sorry, I'm embarrassing you again, aren't I?"

"I..." was all I could get out.

Donna went back to the closet, leaving me alone in my mortification as she took another look at my collection. By the time she'd finished, I was somewhat recovered, telling myself that it really wasn't that big a deal, that it wasn't as if she knew about my porn addiction or anything. (No, only that I found her attractive!) Yet, Donna was the first person who ever knew I even owned such apparel. Obviously, my parents never knew. I washed the small collection I'd then had in the bathroom, keeping them hidden in the dark corner on the top shelf of my closet, or under my clothes. In CFOT, the collection Donna had been fawning over was kept just as secret. I even used the dorm laundry facilities late at night while everyone else was sleeping, studying there by the machines, guarding my secret throughout each nerve-wracking laundry cycle so that nobody could ever come in and open the machines to discover that one of CFOT's most promising cadets liked the feel of sexy lingerie under her clothes.

"And not one, not one regular bra or pair of panties." Donna marvelled, turning around to look at me with a questioning expression. "Um... are you wearing lingerie right now? Under your clothes? Right now?"

My miserable silence and the way I could only look back down at the floor was answer enough. At least I was smiling, though in resigned, total embarrassment.

"Okay, I'm sorry, I really have no right to... let's just go, okay?"

Shortly after, at the front door, she paused, car keys in hand, looking at me with an apologetic smile that she'd been using since we'd left my bedroom before once again saying, "Lieutenant, I'm telling you, it's nothing. I'm sorry I made such a big deal out of it; I wouldn't have if I knew how sensitive you are about it, it's just that it's such a big collection for someone so young, and then there's the fact that you're..."

"A Salvation Army Officer?" I miserably finished, wondering what she'd think if she knew that, besides how I loved the feel of lingerie under my clothes, I also loved masturbating to gangbang pornography while wearing it.

"Well... yeah. But that doesn't mean anything. I mean, it shouldn't. You're still a woman and it's really none of anybody's business but yours. I'm really sorry, Lieutenant Watts. I like you and I feel bad that I humiliated you for nothing. I hope you realize that I don't judge you on it. Well, I suppose that's a lie. I actually like you better for it."

She was still smiling, and I knew she was sincere. I laughed a little, forgiving her with that and my expression before making it real.

"It's okay, Donna, just... maybe don't... please don't tell anyone. Okay?"

"Tell anyone?" she asked as though I'd taken leave of my senses. "Of course not. I'd never do that, Lieutenant. Like I said, it's nobody's business but yours. And besides that, I respect you."

"Okay, thanks. I appreciate that because... well, you know."