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 THE LOVE OF A STRANGER 1st time M/f



   The war was upon us before we new it.  We lived in a small country that
was between two others that hated each other so when they fought we were in
the middle.  My family was fairly well off so I was sheltered and babied
all of my life.  My introduction to the real world occurred when the
surprise attack hit us.  We had small warning about the storm that washed
over us; indeed, I was in school when the first shells impacted nearby. 
There was panic and scrambling and I lost contact with my parents or
anybody else that might have helped or protected a schoolgirl during those
times.  Our city was destined to be the major battleground of the war and
it was very quickly turned into a mass of wreckage unsafe for anybody. 
Food, safe shelter, clean water, law and order, all became rarities as the
two armies fought back and fourth.

   I had been surviving somehow and was scrounging whatever might help me
when the three of them took me.  Three of the sort that war or disaster
allows scope to carry out their dark desires.  My clothes were ripped and I
was listening to their comments about how nice I was to offer myself to
them.  Their engorged members spoke loudly of what I had to look forward to
and the fate worse that death was very close to me.  Now you must realize
that I was too young to have any experience with sex.  I was virgin in both
body and mind even though I knew about the facts of life and had been
warned about many of the pitfalls and dangers.  It all seemed to be
slightly unreal and distant and something that would not affect me for some
time yet.

   Just as the first of them pinned me with his body and I smelled his foul
breath there were shots fired and my hands were suddenly free of the grip
of the other two.  The beast on me raised his head and rolled off just in
time to be shot himself.  I looked about to see who had saved me but there
was nobody in sight for a long while.  Too experienced to stand up I
nevertheless tried to gather my ripped clothes around me.  Then his feet
came into view and I looked up to see a man in the uniform of one of the
armies.  He spoke a strange language that I did not understand but with
gestures and expressions asked if I was all right.  His eyes had taken in
my body but there was no sign of danger in them.  One of my attackers moved
and he was killed by a fast butt stroke to the back of his head almost as
one would swat a bug.  Clearly, my rescuer was used to violence and its
use, yet he seemed to be gentle and I thought of the tales about warriors
who wrote poetry and grew roses.  While I attempted to cover myself, he
searched the bodies and their possessions and removed anything that he must
have deemed useful.  I was given a bag with stuff in it and as he turned to
go, his gestures seemed to offer me the chance to follow him.  When he
didn't react to me following him I paced myself to his slow careful
movements as we crept our way away from scene of the short fight and my
rescue.

   He led me to a very carefully hidden den that still offered clear views
of all of the ways to it but was unnoticeable in the rubble.  It was small
but surprisingly cozy and for the first time since all the troubles started
I felt safe.  There was a jug of water, it was made clear to me that I was
welcome to use it to wash up, and there were a few odd pieces of clothing
that I could cover myself with, ill fitting and dirty they still felt
wonderful.  He had spent the time while I was washing watching our trail
and by the time I was covered he relaxed.  He took a turn with the water
and cleaned himself.  I noticed that he did it with an economy of both
motion and water and he was never unable to reach or use his weapon.  A
small gas stove served to prepare a meal for us, a simple stew made of who
knows what but warm and filling.  The first real food I had eaten in days.
The food combined with my narrow escape and the sense of safety quickly
lulled me to sleep.  I was aware of his movements while I slept and
sometime during the night we shared the warmth of the thin blanket that was
his bed.  We hid there for several days during which he would sneak out to
scout and scavenge, always leaving me behind in the safety of our small
home.  And it was safe for the time and place, I was armed now and at least
had chances that were denied me before.

   At night as we slept I dreamed of things that are not proper for young
girls to dream about and all my dream lovers looked like him.  I looked
forward to the nights when I could snuggle up to his warmth and enjoy his
smell and the feel of his hard body next to mine.  Then things changed, he
was gone when the shells came.  The city rocked under the manmade thunder
and I was afraid.  Afraid for both of us, although I was safe enough from
anything but a direct hit things still happen and even though he was
experienced in the ways of war a stray shell could still take him.

   He returned to me but he was injured, not badly but there was blood
coming from wounds on his flank and ass cheek.  He tried to treat them but
he could not see the area and after watching him trying to both bandage
himself and hide his nudity from me I took over.  I was firm and ignored
his attempts at modesty as I washed and bandaged him.  Realizing that he
was exhausted from his ordeal I forced him to bed and he soon slept.  He
awoke to eat the soup I made and went back to sleep.  After it was too dark
to watch for danger I crawled under the blanket with him and we snuggled
close as was our custom.  I lay in the dark and thought about him, his dark
eyes that ever so rarely showed flashes of humor, his scarred body, his
blonde hair, and his quiet gentle ways.  He was older than she, maybe as
old as her father was.  Father, where are you, do you and Mom still live?
She held to him as she wept for her family and for herself.  He winced in
pain as he moved and she at once tried to comfort him by massaging the
strained muscles, muscles that were warm and firm and felt good under her
hands.  The rags she was wearing bunched uncomfortably around her and she
discarded them.  For the first time there was nothing between them.  She
paused at the first touch of their bare skins but the warmth and the feel
of his body against hers soon had driven all thoughts of propriety from her
mind.  He felt so good, there was a strange tingling between her legs and
her nipples were standing up.  She knew not what was happening but she
wanted it to continue.  He awoke and at first acted befuddled hen he tried
to hold her hands and talk to her but she shushed him with a kiss.  His
response was tentative at first but her reactions to his touch and his
kisses soon had him actively loving her.  A mixture of raw animal passion
caused by the dangers of the past days and a soft tender caring led them
down ways that she never knew about and that he had forgotten about as he
fought.  He fought his urgent needs and instead brought her along slowly,
allowing her to find at first comfort and then enjoyment in each new thing
he showed her.  His rough hands were soft and gentle as he taught her the
secret ways of her body.  He guided her clumsy hands as she sought to
return his gifts and allowed her the luxury of both time and error as she
traveled the path to discovery.  When they finally joined he paused to
allow her to refuse but she was now eager to feel him inside of her.  She
steeled herself for the pain that she had heard about but all that happened
was a small sting and then he was there.  She held him close as the feeling
of being complete spread through her.  This was so right.  Somehow a man
who was able to kill without hesitation and could survive in the most awful
places was also the one who could teach her about love and making love and
he was truly the key to her lock.  His first tender slow movements soon
gave way to more robust lovemaking and then to a rawer celebration of being
alive.  She paced his movements as they moved faster and harder and just
when she was beginning to shake and writhe from her feelings he exploded
and filled her with his passion.  The feeling of having him spend inside of
her drove her over the edge and they rode their orgasms together.

   They made love twice more that night and in the morning she soothed his
guilt by making it clear that she was thankful for his love and that he had
done nothing wrong.  They had one more night together before the peace
keepers came and they were separated.  He back to his duty and she to the
camp where she found her parents.  In the years that followed she often
thought of the man who had loved her.  Others looked at the care and love
she gave to the child that they thought was from the rape that she never
spoke of and marveled at her ability to forgive it its start.