"Shit, the guy's a fucking machine!”
"I walked in like twenty minutes ago and he was going all out then.”
"Yeah, he was at the punching bag when I came in an hour ago.”
Seventy-eight, seventy-nine, if he ever forgot who he was, the tags hanging from his neck reminded him. He heard what the grunts were saying but ignored them. Right that minute, he was in his own zone. All he cared about was finishing his work out, taking a shower and going out. Didn't matter where or to do what, just somewhere he could let his mind find some kind of balance in being away from the muck.
Recently he was back from Afghanistan, where he froze his nuts off in the Hindu Kush mountains. They'd climbed around various peaks, passes, and even a glacier, searching for intel or better yet, the assholes who started it all. There'd been some hot firefights, but nothing substantial and his frustration levels were high by the end of this fourth tour.
Pushing through the pain and sweat for twenty more crunches, he turned from his back to his stomach and started doing push-ups. Every morning he did a hundred of both and counted them off in his head. Routine was good. Warrant Officer Dale Smythe, USMC, didn't need much when he was on leave. A place to work out, sleep and eat was about it. His mission when home was to live as normally as possible.
Right now was good, his brain was quiet, and at peace.
Twenty-three, twenty-four, okay, it would be even better if he had some prime pussy lined up, but he wouldn’t take just any chick to fuck.
"Shit!" He muttered to himself as sweat was pooling in his lower back but he kept going, and ignored the way his dick hardened as the image of a beautiful woman with big tits bounced through his head. There were plenty of reasons why he preferred picking his women up and leaving them well before dawn.
The very nature of his job made relationships difficult to build when someone else owned him 24/7. Besides, he wasn't sure about being tied to one woman. What if she didn't do anything for him out of bed after say the first month? Then, there was the Jody thing. He wasn't about to be some fool whose supposedly faithful girlfriend or wife ends up fucking around with some idiot while he's away on tour. He's seen firsthand what that did to a man and it wasn't pretty.
The position he found himself was fine for now, but didn't mean he wanted to spend the rest of his life picking up some strange females to have sex with and then leave. Forty-six, forty-seven, surely the right woman would cross his path and he'd know it was time to settle down.
Sweating didn't bother him, but today the moisture had managed to hijack his attention. Slowly, the liquid slipped down his spine and pooled in the small of his back. It demanded he wipe it away, but he wouldn't, he was too close to being done. This was all to be expected after working out for a couple of hours. His muscles felt like they were tight and burning, but he liked feeling the immediate reaction to his actions.
Breathing out a big gust of air, he focused on moving his thoughts to something else, anything that wouldn't keep his dick so hard.
His baby sister, Cara!
She'd left him a message about running in some race for breast cancer in memory of their mom. Seventy-five, seventy-six, he was sure he'd seen a flyer on the board in the hallway on his way in about one being held locally. When he was done here, maybe he'd see about entering or volunteering his services for the day. It's been almost fifteen years since she died. Yes, that's what he'd do today, head over and sign up to help. It would be a good way to have her even closer for a few days.
Ninety-nine, one hundred.
Jumping up from the mat, he grabbed a towel up from the stack by the door on his way out of the gym and into the hallway. Wiping the sweat from his face, he walked until he stood in front of the community board and saw the light pink leaflet fluttering beneath the breeze from the air conditioner.
Run for a Cure was being held tomorrow. Hmmm, maybe he wouldn't run but volunteer instead. A 5k wouldn't tax him, but sometimes time was more needed by an event. He'd write up a donation in his Mom's name as well. First, he'd go home, clean up, and then go see what he could do.
After tossing the towel in a bin and picking up his things at the desk, Dale walked outside and made his way over to his truck. It was parked in the far corner, away from everyone else. His pride and joy was a SVT F-150 Lightning, black with custom silver wheels to die for, and polished to a high shine. It'd taken him most of the morning to get it clean again, but after seven months sitting unused in a garage, even with a tarp covering it, he'd expected the hard work.
Opening the door, he stepped up and settled back on the leather seat. Heat radiated around him as he put on his sunglasses and seatbelt before rolling down the windows and heading back to his place.
He called home a one bedroom apartment in a nearby beach town. He liked his time off base, although he was never really all that far from it. He rented from a retired Marine, who kept an eye on his place above the garage whenever he was gone on tour. In return, he helped with any projects that needed doing when he was home.
Tucker was his name and it seemed as if he always had something that needed doing, but Dale didn't mind, the guy was pretty cool.
Walking up the stairs, he went inside, put his stuff down on the kitchen counter and stepped over to the large window in the living room. With a deep breath, he stopped to enjoy what he had. He loved this place because of its expansive view of the Pacific Ocean. There was something about the sea and a sense of infinity it brought with it that calmed his brain. He could spend hours looking out at it.
Despite being a boy from the plains of North Dakota, this was always a welcoming sight for him. It was home and being here reminded him that he'd made it back from another tour.
There was something about the salty scented light breeze and the sound of the waves crashing on the sand that said sit down and relax, you're home.
One of the first things he always did when he returned from deployment was to go body surfing. Catching a wave, riding the tube until it closed down, helped him find some peace away from the chaos of combat. He couldn't ever make it go away entirely, but there at the rim of the world, it felt like it was a little further away.
He wasn't a man who held existential debates with himself, but standing there, he felt at one with nature and the powers that be.
After a time, Dale moved on to his bedroom stripping off his clothes, dropping them wherever they landed as he walked into the bathroom. He turned on the water and stepped into the shower. It was warm, just the way he liked it. Picking up the soap, he started to scrub himself clean. Face, arms, legs, chest, and ass were all soaped and rinsed clean. When he made it to his cock, he found it was still hard. Yeah, he'd been back almost two full days. It was time to find some pussy and not just his hand to play in.
Propping his hand against the cool tiled wall, he put his face under the water and started to stroke his hard-on.
There was no particular woman or picture he imagined while he masturbated, but like a slide show, each one that flicked by was naked and lewdly spread before him. He heard his heavy breathing, and felt his balls tighten as they prepared to explode. All he wanted was to take the immediate need off and he was close to doing that.
Focusing more intently, he thought about riding between the legs of any one of the ladies flashing through his mind.
As he inched closer to coming, the image of one woman in particular stayed. She had long, wavy, light brown hair spread out around her head as she lay on her back. There were white strips of flesh stretching up from her breasts to around her neck, proving she wasn't in to nude sunbathing. Those lines could divert his attention, but not today.
He blinked and found what had drawn him to her in the first place, big boobs. They were full of silicone, but that fact didn’t bother him. The nipples were hard points and in his fantasy, he leaned down, curled his tongue around the tip, and pulled an imagined cry of pleasure from her.
Women were so delicious.
While he kept pounding away at her pussy, soft silky legs wrapped around his back, delicate hands smoothing over his skin, and they both emoted nothing but lusty grunts and moans of satisfaction. He fucked for his pleasure and hers, an orgasm being the end treat.
Even though this was playing out in his imagination, the feelings in his balls and cock were real.
He listened to the fast wet slap coming from his hand gripping hard and stroking quickly over his dick. Opening his eyes, he watched as the crown and a portion of his shaft appeared, only to be quickly covered again. The flesh was red, with veins running close to the surface, full of blood and pumping quickly for satisfaction. He was almost there and knew he'd come on the next couple of strokes.
When it happened, he felt each load of cum being pulled from his balls, through his rod and out to shoot against the wet tiles, again and again. He fought to hold back his shouted groan of fulfillment, it sounded stupid when he got himself off.
Once he finished washing, he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist. Looking in the mirror, he stopped for a moment and really looked at himself. He hadn't made it over to the barbers yet so his hair was longer than usual. Dale smiled and thought about how funny it was he'd forgotten what it was like when not buzzed off.
Pulling a comb through the brown strands that he had, he remembered the first time he'd received his regulation buzz cut. It had been devastating, the end of the world to that eighteen year old kid. Now he realized it was a necessity when out on tour and didn't shower for a month, sometimes longer.
As a kid, he'd dreamed of not having to bathe. As a man, it didn’t take long before he couldn't stand the smell of himself, much less any of the other men on his team. Shit, if he hadn't packed baby wipes to make a rudimentary effort at being clean, Dale was sure he wouldn't ever feel clean again.
Once in the bedroom, he pulled out a t-shirt, shorts and sneakers. Whenever possible, he preferred to let the boys hang loose so he didn't bother with underwear. He made his way out the door and back down to his truck.
"Hey kid, when are you going to get a woman?"
"Why, you want a piece of the action?" It was always the same. Tucker hounded him about finding a woman and in return, he'd give it all back to him.
Sitting in a tall captain's chair on his back deck laughing, Dale made his way across the grass until he was leaning against the railings. This close he thought his landlord must be getting close to eighty now and seemed to have aged quite a bit during his last tour. He'd have to ask one of the neighbors about his health. The old man never gave him a straight answer when he asked and he needed to know, just in case.
"No, too old, but a fresh apple pie here and there wouldn't be turned down."
"Yeah, have to agree with you on that one." The man's sweet tooth was legendary and always barking, but he couldn't argue with how good it sounded right then.
"And I wouldn't mind something pretty to look at rather than your ass."
"Oh yeah, I'm right there with you. I just haven't met the right one yet, I guess I'm picky."
"Bullshit! You're not fruity either, not with all the women you go through. And you go through quite a few of them. No, what's wrong is that you're settling for a woman who'll spread her legs for you. You're a good-looking kid and any lady with half a brain would want to have a ride with you. But, they aren't keepers. Those are the ladies you have to work for, although I've heard it's worth the trip. You listening to me boy?"
"Yes, sir, I don't seem to meet many of those types though." Dale was trying not to smile, but he found it funny how his landlord was acting like a mother hen about his love life. He looked damn serious about it as well.
"If you looked someplace other than through the bottom of a glass, you might have better luck."
"Well, you never know, I might meet something wonderful today."
"Where you headed?" Curiosity brightened his rheumy eyes beneath a faded baseball hat.
"I'm going to volunteer to help in the Run for a Cure race tomorrow."
"Is that one of those we care about boobies things?" The older man tried to stay in touch with the world changing around him. This was good because, like the many books he read and crossword puzzles he did, using his mind kept him mentally strong.
"You might have a chance there."
"I'm doing it for my mom."
"Thought she was dead."
"She is, almost fifteen years now, from breast cancer."
"Ahhh. Now see, you're a good kid. You should find a woman to be here when you return. Have a couple of kiddies running around for me to watch, that's what you need."
"You're a great welcoming committee."
"Yeah, sure, but a female's greetings would be even better, and I won't be around forever you know."
"Now I don't want to hear talk like that."
"I'm not getting any younger and don't want you to make the same mistakes I did. Stop screwing around and go find a nice woman."
"Yes sir. You want me to pick up a couple bags of Have a Chips for you while I'm at it?"
"Of course. I'm watching my waistline so staying away from snacks. I hear soy chips are good for you, so those are okay."
"Your waistline is fine. It's your hairline you need to keep an eye on."
"He he he! Get out of here scamp, and think about what I said."
"Yes, sir, I will."
He waved as he made his way down the drive. Dale hadn't intended to think anything more about it, but for whatever reason he couldn't help mulling over one thing Tucker had mentioned.
Mistakes. It seems his landlord thought his never marrying or having children was something he'd do differently if he could go back and do it all over again.
Dale's stomach growled loudly so he decided to grab something to eat when he picked up the treats for his friend on his way to the Women's Center. Driving north on Coast Highway, he made his way along the snaking coastal route, catching an occasional glimpse of the sea.
After a half hour, he pulled over and went to a health food shack he knew about. He ordered an avocado and alfalfa sprout sandwich and strawberry smoothie to go and a couple bags of soy chips. After putting the bags in his truck, he walked across the street to eat at the top of the stairs that led down to the beach. He watched a few surfers catch some waves, but it wasn't that good a waves to surf, so his gaze kept drifting toward the bevy of beach bunnies lying around in skimpy suits.
They were too young for him. Whoa! Wait a minute. Where had that come from? He wasn't old. Shit, he wasn't even thirty! Okay, apparently now was the time to think about what exactly he wanted in order to come back for more from a lady.
Sex, yes that was obvious but it has to be hot, no shy maiden shit for him. He was a breast man so he'd like her to have a big bust with nice large red nipples he could play with for hours. And curves, he didn't want a skinny minny, no girls who wouldn't eat something because it'll make her fat.
Girl? Shaking his head, Dale consciously took control of the wild conversation going on in his head. No way did he want a girl, that meant giggling, games and drama, and he wasn't interested. No, what he wanted was a woman, someone who knew what she wanted for herself and went after it. Brains, opinions and a sense of humor, shit, if he couldn't laugh with her then he didn't want to be there.
With the newly formed definition floating through his head, he looked down at the sand again and took another look. Yes, over there, that was what he liked. Not a young hard body, but a delicious shape that inspired the lust in him to bubble. The woman he watched wore a bikini and was in the water, diving under an incoming wave. He liked that she didn't seem afraid that her makeup or hair would be ruined by cooling off. It made her seem less like a Barbie doll and more real.
His cock gave a bounce of appreciation in his shorts as she made sure the two triangles covering her boobs were in place and then two fingers slid through the edge of her bottoms to straighten them while she walked back toward her towel.
Yes, this was what he wanted; to make love with a real woman. He was tired of making himself come by his own hand or fucking some female whose name he'd forgotten before he'd left her bed.
There, the decision was made. Now, he just needed to find the right one, and quickly.
Laughing at himself, he stood up and threw his trash into the can. So fucking serious, where had that come from? Without another minute spent dwelling on his desire, Dale walked back to his truck and drove down to the Women's Center.