Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 I don't give a rat's ass where you stand in this war; it's here, and I'll
be damned if I'm not going to support our troops.  That being said; This is
a work of adult fiction; if you have to sneak in to see a NC-17 movie, get
your sorry butt outta here.  Otherwise, enjoy, copyright is mine,(which
simply means ask first) and mail me any comments/concerns good or bad. 
*********************************************************************
Afraid By Dryad

   I was walking into Mr.  Allan's class when Gary spoke to me.

   "I signed up."

   "Signed up for what?" For a sport?  For a class?  What?

   "The Marine recruiter is down in the guidance office." The Marines?  Was
he crazy?  I looked into his face.  Purpose and excitement.

   "What about College?" I guess I was saying what about me.  He thought it
was a fucking game!  Go play soldier.  Didn't he realize people DIED?

   Died.  Then I got scared.  I mean, we'd been going out for 2 years now,
ever since he moved into town.

   "You know I gotta go.  College will be here when I come back." He kissed
me.  The bell rang, and we took our seats.  English class flew by; I didn't
hear a word.  I sat next to him, covertly watching him.

   After English, we went down to study hall.  The junior/senior study hall
was open, and ever since the war began, they'd put the large screen TV in
there, so we could watch CNN.  We sat close to it, watching the
night-vision commentaries; him in anticipation, me in dread.  I held his
hand, as if I could keep him here with me.

   I took a deep breath.  All the "experts" seem to say it won't last long.
So I began to do something stupid.  I started to pray.  Pray to God, pray
to fate, hell, pray to any greater being who'd listen.  Make it end.  Make
it end before graduation.  I gripped his hand tighter.  He looked at me,
questioningly.  I couldn't answer.  I rested my head on his shoulder, and
he wrapped his arm around me.  I willed myself not to cry.

   Fuck.  I hate being selfish.  Here I am worried about me, how it will
affect me and my plans.

   "Why?" I finally managed to whisper.

   He squeezed me tighter, "Aw, honey, it's not about you, it's about
what's right."

   He was the one who was going.  Willing to stand up to the bullies of the
world; hell, whip their ass.  I squeezed him tightly to me.  The teacher
walked up to us, make us split up, I'm sure.

   Then he did something strange.

   "Gary, you were in the guidance office this morning, weren't you?"

   "Yep."

   "You're going?"

   He nodded shyly.  Gary was always cute that way; one of the things I
loved about him was his modesty.  Like he never realized what a great guy
he was.

   Instead of making us sit apart, he just smiled this weird adult smile
and walked away.  I swear, I nearly lost it.  I felt Gary kiss the top of
my head, his arm holding me tighter to him.  We sat and watched the news
repeat the same news bytes over and over until the end of study hall.  That
night he came over after he got home from work.  He asked my parents if it
was all right if we went out for a drive, since it was a school night.  My
parents of course, loved him.  My dad just nodded when I told him that
Gary'd enlisted.  He seemed to expect it.  Maybe its some sort of guy thing
that I just can't understand.

   While he was at work, I poured my anger into my diary.  My hurt, my
fear. Because as I started thinking about it, I realized what it was.

   I was afraid.  Afraid how this would change him, change US.  I knew
change was coming, I mean, we're leaving school; but I never considered
that we'd be apart.  War is so REAL.  What would I do if he died?  I can't
act the widow; we aren't married.  All I heard in my head was "just a
girlfriend" Just.  Jesus.  He could have at least talked to me about it!

   But he couldn't.  I tried to be logical about this.  It's his life. 
Hell, in some ways, he thinks it's a responsibility.  And damn it, I hated
to say it.

   It is.

   Then I got really proud of him.  HE didn't need to be called; he
enlisted of his own free will.  He knew what's at stake.  And part of
me--the part that isn't selfish-- loved him even more.

   I'll try to be a bigger person.  I quashed down that selfish part, told
it to shut the hell up, that it doesn't know what it's talking about.

   So when he asked my parents if we could go for a drive, I knew what he
was asking me.  My parents, said yes, though they never had before.  We
drove around for a bit, just quietly talking about whatever, but avoiding
the real topic.  We made it to one of our make out places.  Yes, we had a
few.  He turned off the car, and we climbed into the back.  For a while, he
just held me, kissing me softly.  I sat in his lap, curling up against him.
My fingers traced his face and I could feel his smooth skin.  I sighed into
the kiss.

   I leaned into his body, wanting him closer to me.  In my head I was
already counting down the time to when he'd be shipped off to San Diego for
basic.  Three months, more or less.  Five months until he'd be shipped
overseas.  I sighed again, holding him close to me.  His hands moved to my
waist, sliding beneath my shirt and skimming my chest to my breasts.  I
shifted in his lap, and straddled him, as his hands shed me of my shirt,
momentarily breaking our kiss.  His lips returned, but to my breasts,
rather than to my mouth.  My back arched as I moaned in response.  His
mouth was hungry, and I was desperate for this closeness.  My fingers
worked through his hair, pulling him closer to me.  He rolled, and placed
me laying on my back.  The moonlight reflected in his earnest eyes.  I
could see the unspoken question in his eyes.

   I leaned up and kissed him gently, easing his t-shirt over his head.  We
kissed again, my chest pressed up against his chilled skin.  His body
shivered, and it made me smile.  Suddenly, I felt powerful.  I nibbled on
his chin, my fingers sliding down his back to his jeans.  A slight tug got
him looking at me again.

   We tried to squirm out of our respective jeans, both of us giggling at
the contortions necessitated by the small confines of the back seat.  Then,
he came to me.  I could feel the heat his dick brought against my thigh.  I
shivered, not sure of the decision I was about to make.

   For the last 2 years, I'd said no.  Victorian charm, fear, censure,
morality; call it what you will.  I loved Gary.  He knew that.  And it's
not like I never let him do anything; we'd fooled around as much as any
other teenage couple; we just never actually "did it".

   But fear is a powerful thing and I needed to be closer.  I arched into
him, moaning his name, as he nibbled at my neck.  I pressed my pelvis into
his, silently begging for more.  Gary must've felt the difference in my
reactions because he leaned up from me.  I gave a barely perceptible nod.

   Shaking, he asked, "Are you sure?"

   I leaned up to kiss him in response.  He jumped, and I had to giggle as
he hit his head on the roof of the car.  He reached into the front seat to
get his wallet out of his jeans, and pulled out a condom.  Putting it on
the ledge behind the back seat, he leaned back down to kiss me.  His
fingers went down lower, teasing my pussy.  His fingers moved within me,
making me jerk beneath him.  My breath became ragged, until I was begging
him.  Quickly he slipped on the condom, and nervously pressed his head
against my opening.  It felt different, bigger than his fingers, firmer.  I
breathed deeply, shakily as my body started to get used to the feeling.  I
opened my eyes to see him watching my face for my reactions.  I smiled
gently at him and pressed back against him.

   I felt the pull as something tore, and my body tensed.  He groaned,
visibly shaking to keep still.  He murmured, "God, you are so beautiful,"
then slowly pulled out.  It ached a bit, then he pressed gradually back in.
He moved gently inside me, his eyes focused on my face.  I watched the
concern and love and yes, fear, in his eyes.  Even in the half-dark, I
could read their glittering depths.  I leaned up and kissed him, first
tenderly, then more passionately.

   It was as if I had given him permission, and he was pressing into me
more and more firmly.  The ache was gone, only a fullness and a yearning. I
pressed up against his bucking thighs, moaning incoherently.  He continued,
as he stroked the sweat soaked hair out of my face.  I could feel his
thrusts getting choppier.  With a deep groan, he jerked against me, and I
felt the sudden expansion of his dick.

   I was panting, still unfulfilled.  He collapsed against me, kissing my
breast, moaning against my skin.  Suddenly, he shifted, his hand reaching
lower.

   "I'm sorry.  I just couldn't help myself.  You're so beautiful." He
gasped out.  And as he said it, his fingers found my clit, flicking it
quickly.  My inner muscles squeezed against his deflating cock, causing him
to moan.  His fingers moved faster, practiced at making me cum this way. 
It didn't take him long to get me to join him, and I was shrieking my
praise.

   We laid down together spoon style on the seat, his arm curled around me,
holding me to me.  I felt him whisper in against my hair.

   "You're so beautiful."

   "You've said that already."

   "Well, it bears repeating.  I love you." He was quiet for a moment, his
fingers moving idly over my skin.  "I'll come back.  I promise." His
fingers stilled, then squeezed me.

   I whispered quietly as I turned to look at him, "don't make promises you
can't keep."

   "Your love for me will keep me safe." I looked at him.  If he weren't so
serious, so earnest, it would have sounded like the corniest thing in the
world.  But I saw the look in his eyes.  And there was nothing I wanted
more than to believe him.
   Copyright Dryad (gbbjg@yahoo.com) 2003