Date: Mon, 1 May 2017 21:55:04 +0000 (UTC)
From: Felix Murray <murrayfelix_27@yahoo.com>
Subject: En Memoria (chapter 1)

                                   En Memoria


          First up, if the title doesn't tell you what?s waiting for you at
the end, then open the Google real quick and catch up to the rest of us.
But it will take awhile to get there. I wrote this out to sort of deal
with my thoughts, to preserve the memories while they were still recent.
This is a true story, with some changes for privacy. After telling the
only person who knows about any of this, my sister told me that sharing
it might actually be a good thing for me because I certainly can't take it
to my family. The only reason they aren't Westboro is that the bayou is
real far from wherever the hell that organization is. She and I know
everything about each other and she even plays a small part in all of
this. So, let?s get started. Oh yeah, and don't worry. The juicy parts are
included. I like to remember those. I like to remember him and I want to
share the best of him.
                                   Chapter 1

          High school was fun socially but bored the shit out of me. I
graduated 32 out of 750+ kids and I did homework for only two classes the
whole four years. I went to college on the complete other side of the
state. It was fun, but outside of sports and the musical groups I was in,
I fell into the wrong side of things and missed too many classes to
actually get that paper, though I did venture out into a lot of interests
academically. Music education, Psychology, Archeology, Physics, at one
point was triple majoring in Computer Science, Graphic Design, and Math,
and left college three months in to Nuclear Engineering. It was all easy,
and I was fucking bored. 10 years later I feel like an ass putting it
like that, but it?s the truth and it really sets the theme for what comes
next.
          I woke up October 24 and went in to my waiting shift at Chili?s
where I was opening the store. I had turned 21 in July and the store had
asked if I wanted to be a bartender. Sure, why the hell not? So, I worked
there on occasion too after I finished the training. Back to my opening
the store, I wasn't expecting anyone until around 11 AM because the town I
lived in, despite having a large university, was still pretty sleepy in
terms of actual populace. Imagine my surprise when the door opens at
10:05 (don't get tripped by these specifics, I can't help my annoying ass
brain keeping track of all of this crap) and in walked two Air Force
personnel
I made note of the male, shorter than me but a tall, Mediterranean
looking, older man with a lot of stripes on his arm with a sense of
expected authority in his stride. I didn't know the names of ranks yet, but
he was a Master Sergeant. The woman with him was shorter, darker
Hispanic, and a 10 out of 10 knock out beauty. It was a Monday so they
were in their dress blues and she was an absolute stunner. Her stripes
made her a Staff Sergeant. I openly gaped at her and that was new to me.
I didn't recover in time and she laughed in this perfect white smile. The
hostess wasn't at the door, I just had happened to be heading to the bar to
make a final prep for the lunch rush. Chili?s has a thing about pushing
martinis.
So, I finally pull my head out of my ass and they take seats in the bar
area but only order waters and food. I start a conversation with them,
because the town has an Air Force recruiting station, but hasn't had a
recruiter in town in years. I asked if they are going to be manning it,
because the Marines were pissing me off with the constant attempts, and
if they were the only ones around they might end up getting me. Turns out
she was. He was her supervisor and was bringing her in to show her around
town from the bigger city about 50 miles away where he was regionally
located. I wrote my information on a server slip and said, ?Get me the hell
out of here.?
          She laughed again. I was hooked. I asked for her recruiter
information, immediately got on Facebook and dropped her a shout-out with
the information. Her phone was ringing by the time she left the
restaurant. That day, I?m not exaggerating, 37 people had lined up with
her. She called me the next day and asked if I could slow the tide,
because she couldn't keep up. Her supervisor sent her an assistant 3 days
later because the fire had started and there wasn't much I could do once
the re-posts had begun. This was before the days of the ?share? button, when
we had to physically copy and paste like savages. She gave me special
attention though, because I was her first and I basically gave her a free
ride.
Normally a recruiter has to go out and put up booths and chase people and
beg and plead, but I?ve always had a fairly large social circle and stroke
of luck on her part, she started with basically the hub. Now let me
unpack that. I?m an introvert. I don't know why people liked me. At this time
of my life, I was quiet, and honestly a broody asshole. I grew up in a
service-oriented family though, and it was a habit to find things to be a
part of, even if I didn't talk while I participated. That doesn't include
marching band or the choirs I got scholarship for being in (deep bass II
voice, if you know anything about choir). It?s hard to be quiet when you?re
literally being paid to make noise.
So, back to that special attention. She always made sure my paperwork was
ready to go. I was gone in two weeks to MEPS (military entrance
processing) for ASVAB testing and specialty testing. She had me tested
for linguist, which I passed the test, but didn't get the job. She had me
tested for Spec Ops, but sort of in an asshole way. She called me late
Friday night, I was at my dad?s house (he now lived in that big city near
my town) and we were catching up on The Big Bang Theory and learning how
to be around each other.
That?s a whole other complicated shit show. We get along now, but for a
long time we weren't close. At all. Alright, short rabbit trail, I caught
him fucking the neighbor?s wife, and my mom has always been slightly
damaged from a childhood so traumatically abusive that if they tried to
make a movie of it, it would send you to jail for watching little girls
get destroyed by nasty old men. I?m not supposed to know that, but I found
the police report in an old box in my grandmother?s attic. My mother died
shortly after that. My brother dropped out of school and worked his ass
off at a furniture store as a mover and he raised me and my sister, got
us through high school and when we left for college, he disappeared.
Mexico last I heard, but I haven't seen him since. My dad had peaced out on
us, no clue where he went. Cop skills transfer anywhere. So, my
backstory, all I have left is my dad, my sister, and then people on his
side of the family. I ran into him when my friends and I were in the
city, he was working for security at the concert we were going to and I
fucking lost it. We left the concert, my friends dragging me literally
kicking and screaming, but he figured out where I was and tracked me
down. He put a lot of time into his penance and with some grief
counseling, we learned how to come back together.
Now let?s see if I can actually get to the point of what I?ve been trying to
get to this whole time! So, the recruiter calls me late Friday night. I?m
at my dad?s. We have pizza and Big Bang and are laughing and enjoying the
show. I see her number, I answer so quickly my dad raises an eyebrow, and
I hear, ?So, how do you feel about EOD??
?Explosive Ordnance Disposal EOD?? I question.
?That?s the one!?
?Dad, how do I feel about EOD?? I turned to him because he had been in the
Army before I was born.
?How do you feel about having a three-month career ending in fireworks and
a pretty pretty memorial in the local paper?? He sipped his beer.
          ?I?ll pass,? I say into the phone.
          ?Well, what about pararescue??
          ?One second,?
?Pararescue?? I look at my dad.
?That would be fun. You?ll last longer but probably also end up getting a
street named after you by the school or something.?
He?s a real vision of puppies and joy, that one.
?Cool, so what do I need for that one?? I turn back to the phone.
?Well, meet me at the high school here in town at 0630 and bring swimming
trunks, running shoes, and energy!?
I look at the clock, it?s 11:30 PM. Damn. I agree, turn to my dad who had
heard, hug him and get back on the road to my on-campus apartment because
0630 comes hella early.
So there I was, wearing some tight swim trunks under my running pants and
as with as much energy as I can muster, which is largely fueled by my
hate of the rising sun, for which I?m also somewhat grateful. It?s November,
so I?m freezing. I?m standing in a line with a bunch of kids, well, high
school seniors who all look like they?ve been working out since they
shoulder pressed their way out of the vaginal canal. 18 of them. I make
19. I?m older, taller than almost all of them, and lacking about 30 lbs of
heavy muscle. I notice some of them smirking about that. Little boys, I?ve
been playing soccer since I was 10 and can run 15 stadiums carrying a
tuba. Fight me, bro.
She was noticing the testosterone and enjoying it. Interestingly enough,
so was one of the other instructors, a nicely muscled, square-jawed
Ranger looking beast. I had been in band long enough to know the gay
thing. Never was my thing, but on a trip the previous year to play at a
bowl game, I shared a bed with a black guy who jerked me off while he
thought I was sleeping. Like I said, I?m an introvert, so I really just
didn't know what to do. Confronting people? Not if there was any other
option, including just hiding behind my closed eyes. But he ate the
evidence off my dick and I decided it wasn't that bad. I was 20 and his
cleaning mouth ended up getting another cleaning opportunity rather
quickly. Then he rolled over and I fell back asleep.
So, I?m in this long ass line of children at my badass 21 years old, but
other than a quick perusal of what the test for pararescue was online the
night before, I had no idea what was about to happen.
?Get in the pool, faggots!? the Ranger looking fella yelled at us, making us
all start in surprise and then we all took off for the poolhouse across
the track field we were on. We got in and the pool was divided. On our
end, the lap side, we all go in. In a little side part, shallow for
wading, there was an old lady class going on. They all had those foam
noodle things and were shaking their loose arms and wearing suits that
barely contained old lady sagginess. Seriously, boobs do NOT age well
against gravity.
So, I don't know how far we have to swim, but I grew up in the Gulf of
Mexico. I hadn't actually gone swimming in a few years, but I?ll be damned if
I don't use everything I remember to pass this. Then the three instructors
start yelling the most crude, vile things I?ve ever heard and this was
after years of band and public school education. I was laughing so hard I
almost drowned. So, I keep swimming. I lost count of the laps. Letting
your foot rest on bottom is DQ, so my core is wracked as I fought to not
even get close. The children were dropping out left and right. My
recruiter was screaming my name. She?s cheering me. It?s me and three others
other. Seriously? Weak. I vaguely noticed all the old ladies have stopped
their class and have joined in the harassing. It?s pleasing the instructors
to no end to hear octogenarians scream, ?You little cunt pussy fishmonger!
Move that tight ass, red!? It?s one of the greatest and most horrifying
moments of my life to have that yelled at me. I wish I could let that go,
but like I said earlier, my brain holds on to the weird shit.
Suddenly I touch the wall and go to spin under to push back off, I?m well
past having a count and I can't recall having taken a breath in seven
years, approximately. Just hands and feet thrashing and the stitch in my
side ripping my ribs open with every lunge. Hands are grabbing me and
pulling me out and I heard her cheering, the other instructors are
clapping me on the back and she?s hugging me, soaking wet. When she pulled
back, her PT clothes were wet and I didn't notice it because I was still
learning to breathe again, but she smirks and flips her hair as she
turns. The Ranger fella leans around me and says, ?Damn! No wonder she didn't
care! Fuck me??and I look down to see in my skin tight trunks, my dick is
straight down my left leg.
I was so tired I didn't even care. He patted my ass and winked. ?Tight ass,
tight body, that piece, man. You lady killer,? and walked away, yelling at
the two who are just coming in. Turns out I was the first to finish the
swim.
We get 10 minutes to recover, then we dress for running. I got a wild
hair and stayed in my swim trunks. Just threw on a tank top and my
running shoes.
Just me and two muscle heads. One of the instructors puts his shoes on
and is going to pace at the minimum run time, so as long as we are ahead
of him we will pass the run. So, we start. I know how to run, so I jog at
the pacer?s time to warm up, letting my body adjust from the swim. The two
boys take off, almost sprinting. We have to do a mile and a half in
10:32. Seems arbitrary, but I?m sure there?s a science to it. I never studied
kinesiology, so I don't know. About three laps in into the six needed, one
kid just falls out. Like a tree falling, one second he?s running and the
next he just planked out. His poor face. It was actually bad enough it
wasn't funny. Other dude looks back with a horrified look but doesn't stop.
He sees me coming into my wind and decides to leave his fallen comrade
because he wants to beat me in this.
He didn't.
I pick up my speed and as each lap finishes, I run faster. By the sixth
lap, I?m in a full sprint around the track. I?ve left him behind but damn if
he isn't hanging in there. The instructors have gotten the fallen kid off
the track and called for an ambulance and his parents. Just my recruiter
is watching us and the pacer who has decided he doesn't need to worry about
a minimum, comes basically floating around the track, runs with me for a
few seconds, winks and then leaves me in his dust. I?m in awe. I throw a
glance back at the kid and his mouth is hanging open, his eyes wide. I
raise my eyebrows in a, ?What the hell??? and then I?m crossing the line. Just
missed my preference of 9 minutes and 30 seconds by making it in :38. The
kid came in 10 seconds behind me. We clap each other on the back, looking
over at our fallen runner with concern. We couldn't have scripted the next
part better. We look back at each other, I?ve only got about an inch on
him, we both go to smile and then we just threw up all over our feet. Was
disgusting and hilarious.
We get sent to go rinse off in the poolhouse showers. We come back and
both of us knock out our pushups, sit ups, and flutter kicks. To the
cheers of some of the old ladies who had come to watch us finish up, they
call us future heroes and they?re so proud of us for being so dedicated to
serving our country, blah blah blah. I was fuzzy as hell at this point,
I?ve pushed my body further than I should have with no proper nutrition
leading up to this whole thing. I exchange names with the other guy, his
parents pick him up, and I?m talking with the Ranger guy and my recruiter.
Suddenly I feel a little dizzy. I reach out and put my hand on her
shoulder.
I woke up in my truck and she was driving me to my apt. I woke up again
as she was getting me up the stairs, my suitemate on the other side. They
get me to my bed and I collapse in it. My suitemate has to go to work so
he leaves me in her care. I?m staying awake at this point, trying to get my
sweaty shirt off. She comes back from the kitchenette with a glass of
water, a glass of milk, and some peanut butter and crackers. I slowly
take the water and when it doesn't come back up, she literally fed me the
crackers and peanut butter, wiping my chin when some of the milk spilled
down my lips. Then she was kissing me.
Needless to say I had help getting out of my sweaty shorts.
She left me in a tangled mess and told me to report to her tomorrow at
noon to see if my test results had landed me a job yet. I was trying for
some special jobs, not just some desk worker, which I could have already
left for if I had wanted one.
The next day, I?m sore, I?m showered, I?ve cleaned up our mess, my dad is
telling all of his cop friends I?ve passed Spec Ops initial physical test
and I?m gonna be badass. I go into the office and she?s sitting there with a
smile on her face and a piece of paper saying that I?m leaving Feb 14 for
basic training as a pararescue trainee. We made another mess. We made
them a few times a week until I left. Her husband never knew. He was
taller than me, and a ripped ex-combat controller. I had dinner with the
family a few times. I always got a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach
when around him, and it wasn't guilt. I was too young and the chip on my
shoulder too big to feel something like that.
I started working out with him. I dropped out of college to prepare for
basic training and the following pipelines. Honestly, what a waste of my
time.
Like I said, I started working out with him. He became like a big brother
to me. We would have beers, go to the movies (her usually in tow), go
hunting, fishing, to the city, all sorts of honestly super unprofessional
things. Considering she was being even more unprofessional with me, I
figure she really didn't feel like it was right for her to put that line in
the sand down. It was the best few months of my life so far. But I never
got over that little stomach flip that would happen every time I saw him.
I never saw him naked, though we would use the showers at the gym, it was
in stalls and we always kept towels in place. But he smelled good. All
the time. That?s huge for me.
So the day comes. Feb 13. My dad and I are having dinner one last time
with them. They?ve become close. He?s a cop. She has to know if people are
lying about records. A simple call weeded out a lot of problems for her.
She was sending me off to be a hero and her hero husband had taken me
under his wing and made me as ready as he could. My dad loved them like
they were the Reagans. I look at her wishing we could make a mess one
last time, but I?m not going to do anything stupid. He hugged me close and
his smell made me twinge again. My dad and I go back to my place, he
crashed on my couch. Early the next day, she knocked on my door to bring
me to the MEPS facility two hours away. I hug my dad again. In the van
were three others, actually all friends of mine, people who had jumped on
the wagon when I put out the all call. We all laughed and joked and
tradde stories about what we are going to do. One guy got an Intel job.
Hard to do. The girl got a medical lab technician job. Another hard one
to grab. The last guy was going to be finance. Ouch. Their eyes all go
big when the recruiter tells them I?m going to be a pararescueman. The
usual accolades. I?m pretty sure I?m getting tired of that already. I hate
attention. I never have known what to do under the spotlight, so I tend
to do something I personally regret.
We get to MEPS. We sat through briefings. The night?s schedule. Tomorrow?s
schedule. We were given food vouchers. We were brought to a hotel where
we stayed the night and I didn't socialize with most of the people getting
on the plane with me in the morning. Just the Intel guy and the medical
girl I was in the van with. I didn't see the finance guy, otherwise we
would have had him along to go catch a movie with us.
I still didn't see him in the morning. Turns out he had chickened out. No
idea why. He was going into finance. Whatever. So, I got seated next to
his guy who has the absolute worst teeth I?ve ever seen. He?s 26, married
with a kid, from some other city, and looks like he chews on rocks every
morning to clean his teeth. Because they were white, but geez it was like
a toddler aligned them or something. Nothing was the same size, the right
shape, or half the time even touching the nearest teeth. His wife was hot
though. He wasn't a bad looking guy, just those teeth.
So, I decided to like him because he?s not catching on that I suck at small
talk and just go along for the conversation. It didn't require me to
actually say much so it was doable. Mother. Fucker. I hate this guy. He
got the linguist job I went up for. Son of a bitch. He?s my seatmate on the
plane. Asswipe. Why is he sitting next to me on the bus??
So, yeah, the bus. An old school bus with the letters USAF BMT in fading
letters on the side meets us at the airport. We all crammed on, carrying
our one bag and looking like a bunch of children. The training
instructors, or TIs, were circling like predatory hawks, but so far no
one had come in for the attack. Mostly just herded us in commanding tones
onto the bus.
I?m grumbling about lamprey man sharing my seat and staring out the window,
but it?s night at this point in San Antonio, TX, so all I could see were
fuzzy buildings past the yellow street lights in the distance. 20 minutes
later we pulled up to a building and the fun begins. A TI came bouncing
onto the us and says in this incredibly friendly voice, ?Hey boys and
girls, welcome to Air Force Basic Training! I hope you enjoy your stay!?
Since I?m noticing teeth right now, I saw he has a great smile.
Then this guy transforms like Megatron. Rock solid face, twinkling eyes
turn to ice and his voice is like a whip. ?Now get your fucking asses off
this bus! Move your fucking worthless carcasses or I will leave you
bleeding in your shit as you push Texas so far the Guinness Book of World
Records labels a new Grand Canyon!?
Everyone is stunned. My dad had told me about this part, so I was ready.
I shoved my seatmate out and growled, ?Move!? and was quick on his tail. We
were out of the bus almost before anyone else had moved. I saw a painted
line and headed for it. A TI was yelling at us to go there anyway.
Everyone followed us, lining up. But of course, it wasn't fast enough.
Everyone back on the bus. Off the bus. Back on it. Faster! It was just a
way to disorient us at the beginning. The psychology behind it is quite
fascinating, but we won't go into for this story. Finally, we are all
sweating, pissed, and allowed to stay at the line. But now we are in
trouble. How dare we line up with the females? Who the hell do we think
we are? We don't deserve the cocks our daddies gave us. No female wants to
stand in line with us! Now push! So we pushed Texas for a bit while the
females stood there holding their bags. And since we believe in equality,
when the last trainee pushing had collapsed, unable to do another pushup,
the girls were told to do squats. Soon there was a mass of gasping,
sprawling Air Force trainees on the pad. Get up! Now! Go through this
door! Sit down here! Take your shoes off. Stand on this scale. Stop
sweating so much, freak! We were weighed, poked, measured, given a pair
of New Balance shoes to carry, and then told what squadron and flight we
were going to be in. Lamprey was in my flight. So was my Intel friend!
The medical girl was going to another squadron. I haven't seen her since.
Nothing sinister about it. Just it?s a big base and we never reconnected
since BMT.
There?s nothing really special that happened in BMT. Unlike most people who
go through BMT, I wasn't put in a Spec Ops flight. I was with a bunch of
normal duty guys. Oh, and I didn't jerk off for 8 and a half weeks. I mean,
there was a lot of internal drama, but nothing that really drives the
overall story. Just an interesting little experience and few
observations. I knew there was a cocksucker who would go to the latrine
when lights were out, but I never cared to go. And one time when we were
all in the day room where we met for daily briefings, we weren't allowed to
sit on the chairs so we all crammed in and sat on the floor which, with
55 of us, meant we were basically sitting on each other. So I was sitting
there with my knees in the laps of the guys next to me because I?m one of
the taller guys in the flight. There?s a dude kneeling behind me, his
crotch pressed into my back but I honestly don't notice it because I?ve seen
so much dick and stand ?nuts to butts? every time we go to chow, I?m just
burned out on needed personal space. I?m so grumpy nowadays it?s amazing I
don't kill anyone. I don't know why they made me flight chief, because I just
growled at anyone who spoke to me unless it was one of my element
leaders. But damn did that flight run itself by two weeks in. My TI
actually asked if I could stop being so gruff because he hadn't had a
chance to yell at anyone other than for stupid shit in a week.
So, dude has his crotch digging into my back but he?s pressed into my by
the guy behind him. Nothing to be done about it. Suddenly I feel it.
Something was crawling across my upper back. He notices it. He tries to
pull back. I can't move forward because dude is basically in my lap in
front of me. His dick grows across my neck. He is practically shaking in
fear. I can't help it. I just start laughing. I mean, full on belly
laughing. My TI stops talking and looks at me like I?m nuts, but it?s so
unusual that he doesn't yell. I can't even tell the story of what?s happening.
I?m just in the middle of these dudes pissing myself laughing so hard I can't
breathe. I don't know what it was, but after I calm down and pass on the
story, the TI laughs and then makes me push Texas, but I had no more
stress. Like, no one bothered me. Things literally caught on fire and I
felt like I was in in this bubble of MC Hammer. Can't touch this. On
Saturdays I would go meet up with spec ops flights and workout with them.
Involved getting drowned in a pool a lot. I also had to do a lot more
workouts than my flight. I was constantly tired. But I was ok.
Oh wait, I still laugh about this. So, I?ll go ahead and give you my
height. I?m 6?4. One night in the fourth week I was coming back from training
with the spec ops flights, passing the laundry room so I stopped in to
see if any of my flight was in there. We had a sister flight (every
flight has a brother/sister flight, a flight they do all their training
with. Ours was a female flight, so sister flight). They don't always have a
female TI, but ours did. A five foot tall prior security forces weapons
specialist badass like firecracker. So, I saw the females had more bags
than they had people. I grabbed two of them and put them on my shoulders
and said I would take them up to their dorm while they finished up. You?re
not supposed to speak to the females, but I was only assisting my people
so I took the risk. So, normally these bags are heavy as hell when they?re
full so it usually takes two people to carry them any distance. I?m walking
up the stairs, one on each shoulder (I?m not all that big, I wouldn't have
been able to do that with bags of my guys? stuff I?m sure) and their female
TI is coming down the stairs. I step to the side and let her pass with a
verbal acknowledgement and as she passes, her mind catches up to what I?m
doing. Which is carrying two bags alone. Technically a nono. So she?s
already passed me and I?m two steps higher than her as she whips around,
knife hands me and starts lighting my ass up with some ass chewing. I
give my reporting statement and tell her I?m assisting sister flight with
carrying their laundry. At this point, we both realize the height
difference and the stairs don't help. She?s knife handing straight at my
dick, which is at eye level for her now and I?m in the little plastic PT
shorts. She had said some pretty colorful things and I was actually kind
of nervous. No TI had ever made me nervous physically, but I was actually
quite sure she was going to punch me straight in the dick, her eyes
became so furious. She left without another word, and I did my duty then
went back to my own dorm. I don't know if that?s funny to you, but it makes
me laugh. The shortest person I knew there was yelling at my dick. Eh,
anyway.
We finish BMT. I had a few new friends. Lamprey was not one of them. I
was still bitter. At graduation, my dad and his new lady friend were
there. They gave me a brand-new phone. My first smartphone. It was shitty
compared to what we have today, but man it was so cool then. He was
walking towards me, and I remember this so perfectly crystal clear. We
had to stand at attention until our family comes to ?tap us out.? He was
walking, but he seemed so nervous. Suddenly he stops, spins around and
brings his hands to his face. Mind you, my dad is 6?7 and built. A lot of
people around him see. His shoulders were shaking. He reaches into his
pocket, pulls out sunglasses and puts them on. He turned back around,
hugged me, lifting me up and whispered, ?Ilove you. I?m s sorry for
everything. I?m so proud of you.? His tears were making my cheeks wet.
I fucking lost it. His lady was crying. I was blubbering. My TI, who had
managed to get a little of my story out of me was nearby and even he was
misty eyed. He left quickly, giving us the privacy of a field full of
thousands of people.
We had our base leave. Then he went home and I entered into the
pararescue pipeline. Two years later, after being dunked, froze, beat up,
in mountains, in marshes, in showers with a lot of naked dudes where I
realized my sketchbook was slowly turning to an appreciation of the naked
male form, I donned my maroon beret, having shined my PJ flash to its
brightest possible form, and my dad and I cried again.
Forward yon reader to after my first mission. The dumbest shit. We were
back, I was walking on a safe base! I still never got the whole damn
story, but somehow a building was being demo?d but with no warning. A wall
fell on me. My left leg was crushed. I woke up much later with a lot of
bandages and missing about 20 lbs. From the knee down, I could only see
bed. I cried alone that night.
Weeks passed, I was off the meds. My ribs were mostly healed. I was
mostly functional. I had been fitted with a temporary prosthetic. I still
couldn't walk on it, the pain as my leg got used to the scars and new
attachment was probably bearable but I felt broken still. I had never in
my life had dealt with depression, even after losing everyone I had. It?s a
learning curve.

My sister and I became very close during this time. We talked every day.
She flew out to see me. My dad did too, but I had been growing a little
apart from him again as I figured out my sketchbook. He had cut off a
lifelong friend when he found out the fella was pounding out another cop
and liked sucking dick. So, I had my reservations about taking the plunge
with that information. I told my sister what was going on. Mentally,
physically, where I was. She hugged me and said, and I?m quoting here, ?Thank
fuck, because if I have to hear about how perfect you are from dad ever
again, I?ll know that you?re a disappointment to him too, even though it?ll be
our secret. I love you, boo.? I laughed for the first time since my
mission. And again, I found the strength to carry on. She started sending
me texts like, ?Yo, you get some dick yet?? And I think that, more than
anything, pushed me to the edge. I actually started letting myself think
about it. I looked up porn that didn't have women in it. I felt something
awaken in my chest.
Finally, my new carbon fiber legs came in. One, an athletic piece that
could handle some shock, and then another that looked like a regular leg
and I could wear with long pants. I was scheduled for my new therapist in
a week. He was going to get me back in shape. I had started to let myself
go, as you might imagine. I?ve never had a ripped six pack. Ever. I?ve always
enjoyed pizza too much. But I?ve always been solid. Well, my rock was a
little watery 4 months since my last ab circuit. I?m 23 now, coming up on
24, a lifelong disabled vet, and I was given the option to finish my
contract and become a civilian. I asked if there was a way I could stay
in. I was given a yes, because the manning issues were so bad they were
scrambling for anyone who could help keep the planes flying. So, in a few
months after I had progressed in therapy, I would leave for Sheppard AF
Base in Wichita Falls to be trained as a Hydraulics Specialist. That all
happened in literally about 15 hours. They were desperate. My friends
from the pipeline, my family of PJs, they gave me an amazing going away.
They know how to party.
So, the day of my new therapist arrives. He calls and says, ?Airman, I?m
going to have to apologize upfront. Something has happened on my end and
I have to close up early, but I understand you need this start so you can
get on with your life. If you are comfortable, my office can be anywhere
I want it to be, I can have you over tonight to my house and we can begin
your therapy. I just need to take care of some things this afternoon.?
Fuck it, I thought. ?Sounds good, just send me your address or I can write
it down and I?ll see you tonight.?
He texted me his address and when he would be home. I called up a friend
and he came over. We ate teriyaki from this excellent shop down on the
main strip and played video games all day. My phone buzzed and it was my
therapist?s number. ?I?ll be home in 20 minutes. Can you still come in??
I replied, ?On my way. See you in about 30.?
I had my buddy drive me to the appointment and with a parting, ?Call if you
need a ride home,? he drove off.
I hobbled my way up to the front door on my crutch and athletic foot and
the door opened. I looked up to shake his hand and my breath caught in my
throat. A huge black man stood in the door, filling the frame side to
side. He was an inch or so shorter than me but his size made me feel like
I was looking up at him. He raised an eyebrow and stretched out his hand.
?Hi, nice to meet you, Airman. I?m Montgomery.?
I numbly shook his hand, but couldn't take my eyes off of his body. His
face was pure power. A trimmed but thick goatee. Lips perfectly shaped,
pouting just a little. Dark eyes crowned by eyebrows that looked salon
quality. And I smelled him. Soft, sweet, strong, the gust from the air
escaping the house brought him to me and I couldn't return the
introduction. I must have looked pained, because concern crossed his face
and he stepped out, wrapping a rock solid arm around my waist and taking
the weight off my leg with the ease of lifting a child. He basically
carried me over his doorstep. My heart was racing.
In his living room, in front of ESPN, there was a massage table, and a
few assembled bars, to hold on to as I paced back and forth and gained
leg strength. All of the furniture had been pushed to the side. He had a
fireplace and a small but warm fire going. Montgomery led me to the couch
and sat me down. He propped up my left leg and disappeared into the next
room and appeared almost immediately with a bag of stuff and a bottle of
water. He handed me the water, and knelt down in front of me and without
looking at me again, he flipped up the hem of my shorts to where my leg
and body merged and began inspecting the attachment. He put lotion on his
hands and began to rub it all over my thigh. He worked down and moved to
the prosthetic. He separated the piece from my leg and whereas most
people?s first viewing of the cut make them cringe, he didn't even blink and
gently began to work the lotion in.
I gasped, it still hurt. The scar tissue was going to take awhile to stop
being a pain. And fuck I could smell him even more now. He looked up just
as I brought my head back up as I had let it fall back onto the couch in
my grimace. His eyes met mine and my heart fluttered again. I followed
his eyes down. I always did dress left. I had known a massage was part of
this so I had dressed simply. Or in other words, commando. There was
nothing to keep me from coming out. And boy did I. I was rock hard and
there was no hiding it. He looked back up at me, at first in amusement.
As a masseur, I?m sure he?s seen his share of men with hardons, but I was in
pain and a hard dick is not the usual response. The amusement in his eyes
turned to a question. I felt only fear. I felt so out of control.
He hadn't stopped rubbing my leg. Then his legs shifted and I saw in his
shorts he was just as turgid as I was. He tried to cover it, but I had
seen it. This dude was hung. My dick twitched and started getting shiny.
He scared the shit out of me by grabbing my dick and rubbing his thumb
all over, spreading the slickness. I moaned. He leaned up over me, his
big chest covering me. His face was inches from mine. He looked into my
eyes. He saw my fear.
With a tear in my eyes, I gave the smallest of nods. He kissed me. I blew
my load as soon as his tongue touched mine. He didn't stop. He kept kissing
me. He was aware of and careful of my leg, but he kissed me deeper. He
laid me fully on the couch, moving me so effortlessly I got offended, but
when his weight came down on me I was helpless again. He nuzzled my neck.
He pulled off me. ?What the fuck am I doing?? he grumbled to himself. He
started to lift off further. I impulsively grabbed his lower back and
hurt myself by wrapping my left stump around his butt.
?Hi Montgomery, my name is Murray.?
He laughed, sank back down on me and we kissed some more.
End Chapt 1.
P.S. Remember Lamprey? Dumbass got kicked out of the military for selling
weed and other assorted drugs to other students at the linguist academy.
Fuck that guy.