Just Following Orders

I need a break, he thought. I've got a lot of leave built up and I think it's time I took it. Maybe head for the mountains again.

Master Sergeant Andrew Thomas certainly did need a break. Like most soldiers, he preferred doing soldier stuff to being stuck indoors all day every day. He had been a platoon sergeant for a field medical company, and before that a line medic for a company of infantry grunts. Good times, but he had jumped too soon on this promotion when it came up, not fully considering how mind numbing an office job could be. In military parlance, he was "flying a desk." He may have been stationed at popular Fort Lewis, Washington, but this job was anything but fun.

He had earned the honorific of "Doc" during two tours in Iraq with the Infantry. Yeah, everyone made fun of the grunts, but in reality they were what the Army was all about and taking care of them had been a distinct honor. He'd earned his Combat Medic Badge on his first tour as a buck Sergeant and had even been wounded in action, and for one particularly hairy mission he had been awarded a Silver Star for actions that had saved the lives of half a dozen of his guys at great risk to his own well being. His guys loved him as much as he loved them.

Now he was the NCO in charge of medical logistics for a brigade, which meant that he made sure they never ran out of what they needed to treat the wounded and that the medical supplies were always in the right place at the right time. It was an essential job, but he was not a desk jockey by nature and he chafed at the limitations of the position. He thought about it a lot. Yeah, I made E8, but was it worth it? I should have waited for a First Sergeant slot to open even if I had to go to BFE to take it.

The electronic beeping of his desk phone stirred him from his reverie. He answered it professionally, as always.

"MEDLOG, Master Sergeant Thomas."

"Sergeant Thomas, it's Doctor Robinson."

The words set him on edge. When would these damn doctors learn that they were soldiers first and physicians second? Robinson was actual Lieutenant Colonel Debra Robinson, the Brigade Surgeon. Thomas himself was a Master Sergeant, three grades above Sergeant and with infinitely more experience, and he hated to be addressed as "Sergeant" even though the Army found it perfectly acceptable. She'd never get away with that shit in the Marine Corps, he mused. They use full ranks as forms of address there. Ah, well.

"Yes, ma'am. What can I do for you?"

"Sergeant, I'd like you to drive me to the airport this afternoon."

"Ma'am, isn't the CQ available?" The Charge of Quarters was a junior enlisted troop assigned to run those kinds of errands. Asking Thomas to do it was actually an insult.

"Yes, but I want you to take me. We have several important things to discuss and I won't have to time to go over them with you before I leave. Can you meet me here at 1700?" On the 24-hour clock the military used that was 5 pm.

"Of course, Colonel. See you then." Even officers get a better break, he thought as he hung up the handset. Second Lieutenants were addressed as "Lieutenant", Lieutenant Colonels got to drop the qualifier when addressed, and all four of the ranks with stars were addressed as "General." But an enlisted puke with fifteen years in uniform and seven promotions still gets called "Sergeant." So wrong, on so many levels.

Thomas had to admit that while Robinson may not have been much of a soldier, she was a looker. Tall and trim, she made the normally sexless and shapeless Army Combat Uniform look like a fashion statement, filling it in all the right places in just the right way. He wondered if she had hers tailored, although doing that was banned by regulation.

And that face! High, angular cheekbones below sparkling brown eyes, a wide mouth with two rows of perfect teeth, a strong jaw, and a long neck that reminded him of a high fashion model. Like the other female soldiers, she pulled her blond hair back into a tight bun just above her neck. She was obviously smart enough to have conquered medical school, so she was a beauty queen AND a doctor AND a senior Army officer. Definitely from one of the better neighborhoods in the gene pool, he thought with a smile. I guess there are worse ways to spend a couple of hours after work.

****************************************

That was how he found himself rapping on her door frame at the end of the workday.

"You ready, Colonel?"

"Yep, let me grab my stuff and get out of here." She started to reach for a small wheeled suitcase, but Thomas grabbed it first.

"You don't have to do that," she protested.

"It's how things are done, ma'am," he answered with a slight nod of his head. He turned to let her exit first, another military protocol. He followed her out the door, appreciating the rear view with just the slightest twinge of guilt.

"Let's take my car," she suggested. It's a long way and I don't want to use your gas. You can just leave it here when you come back." He followed her lead and they walked to a black BMW X5.

"Nice wheels, Colonel," he opined. Yep, officers definitely had it better.

"Thanks. Here, you drive," she said, tossing him the key fob. He opened the tailgate and put her bag in the back, then closed it and walked to the right side to open her door. She was already getting in, so he walked around to the other side and eased himself into the driver's seat. He punched the button on the dash to start the engine and adjusted the seat and mirrors for his six-foot, two-inch frame. He backed out of the space and headed for the main road to the front gate.

"So, Andy, how long have you been doing this?"

"Andy"? Did she just call me "Andy"? He gritted his teeth momentarily. Fucking doctors.

"This job or the Army, ma'am?"

"Both. And call me Debra."

"Fat chance of that, Colonel. I've been in the Army for fifteen years, in this job for six months."

"Actually, I insist. We'll be working together for a while and formality can interfere with working relationships. Plus, we're not in the office." Concentrating on his driving, he was shocked when he felt her hand come to rest on his right leg as she spoke.

"Ma'am?" He glanced down at her hand, which still rested on his thigh.

"Yes?"

"Ahem...?" He nodded at her hand.

"Does that make you uncomfortable, Andy?"

"More puzzled than anything, Colonel."

"A woman's hand on your leg is puzzling?"

"A Lieutenant Colonel's hand on my leg is puzzling, ma'am."

"But I'm also a woman, Andy, and you're one hell of a good looking man. And stop with that 'ma'am' shit." Her fingers had moved to the inside of his thigh, about two inches below his junk.

"Colonel, this is entirely inappropriate."

"Fuck inappropriate. Two adults should be able to do what comes naturally."

"Ma'am, you're a senior officer and I'm..."

"Just shut up and drive. That's an order," she chuckled, moving her seat all the way back, unbuckling her seat belt, and twisting toward in her seat. The warning system began beeping insistently but she ignored it. She bent over the center console and used her right hand to begin massaging his crotch through his uniform.

"Fuckin' A, Debra!"

"Yeah, we'll get to that too," she replied with a slight giggle. The Army had finally gotten smart several years before and replaced the button fly on the field uniform with a zipper. Holding the top of his pants with her left hand, she lowered the zipper with her right and reached into the fly, finding the fly on his boxers and reaching through that, too.

"Holy shit..."

"Concentrate on your driving, Andy. Wouldn't want to crash, now would we?" She wrestled his cock into the open though the fly. "Dammit, man. Even soft you have a nice package." She began stroking his flaccid member, which responded immediately.

Thomas decided to just let this run its course. She stood to get into more trouble than him anyway if anyone found out, and since his third divorce late last year he hadn't been much in search of female companionship. She was also the hottest female soldier he had ever seen, especially noteworthy for a guy who tended to see all soldiers the same way and judge them on their performance, not their gender.

Debra bent farther over the console and moved her head under his right arm to his lap, then held up his rapidly growing shaft and took it between her lips. She slowly lowered her mouth around it until reaching the base, then moved back up to the tip. He put his hand on the back of her head and let out a sigh. He hadn't had a blowjob in over a year, and she knew what she was doing.

"Jesus H..." he spat out.

Did she ever know what she was doing. She lapped her tongue around the head, then down the side of his cock and back up. At the top she again put her mouth fully around it and took its entire length in. With exquisite slowness she coaxed him into full hardness, her right hand moving with her mouth in an ever increasing pace. Oh fuck yes, he thought. That is excellent.

She knew just how to keep him from cumming, bringing him just short of that point then slowing her actions. She lifted her mouth from him momentarily.

"Where are we?"

"Just getting off the freeway. We'll be at SeaTac in five minutes," he answered.

"Good. Park in some distant corner of the garage."

He had thought he would be dropping her off in the departing flights area, but she obviously had other plans. He did as instructed, taking the ramp into the short term lot and getting a ticket from the machine as she continued to move her head up and down in his lap. He went to the highest floor and found a spot literally in the corner. She sat up straight as he turned off the car, wiping a small bit of saliva from her lips.

She gave him a suggestive leer and said, "Come around to my side of the car." He exited the vehicle and tried to tuck his now rigid shaft back into his pants, without much success. He hurried to the passenger side.

While he was coming around the car, Debra unbuckled the belt of her uniform pants, unzipped them, and pulled those and the black bikini underwear she wore down past her knees where they came to a stop at the top of her combat boots. I'm so fucking wet I'm probably leaving something on the seat, she thought with a smile.

As Andy opened the door, Debra dropped her feet out of the car and immediately turned to face the interior. He was momentarily taken aback at the sight of her perfect, heart-shaped ass facing him, pants gathered below her knees, but she was impatient. She bent her upper body into the car and leaned on the seat, using her left hand to reach back and part her ass cheeks slightly.

"Come on, stud. Stop wasting time and give me what I want."

Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead, he thought to himself. Pulling his still hard cock from his pants, he moved towards her beautiful ass and guided it between the cheeks and into her hot, wet canal. This was raw, primal sex, and gently sweet was not the order of the day; once he was fully into her, he began rhythmically pounding her from behind, slamming against her ass while holding her narrow hips.

"Yesyesyes, just like that. Fuck me good."

Holy mama, can this guy pump, she thought. He's like a fucking machine. This was exactly what she wanted. None of that phony romantic bullshit, just hard, pussy-pounding sex. She was tired of playing the games since her own divorce, and in fact had joined the Army right after finishing her residency to get as far away from her lazy asshole of an ex-husband as she could.

"Ohsweetmamayes..." she cried out, closing her eyes and pulling her head back. "I'm cumminggggggg..." She felt her orgasm approaching, then let it wash over her, the blood that had engorged her pussy and midsection flushing throughout her body. The release was amazing, the waves of pleasure almost overwhelming.

Through her own orgasm, she heard his breath coming in short gasps and figured he was also about to cum. Sure enough, just then he gave one final hard thrust and buried his cock into her to its base as his own body pulsed and his load filled her pussy. He grunted like a wild animal in release as each spasm shook him. It had been a long while and his load was particularly large, some of it dripping from her. They stood like that for a minute or so until their breathing returned to normal, then he pulled out of her and took a step back. She grabbed a towel from her back seat and turned to him as she wiped herself clean, then handed the towel to him.

"Dammit, man, you about filled me up," she told him with a sly smile, her eyes on his. She couldn't read him at all as she restored her uniform to some semblance of order.

"Yes, ma'am, er, Debra."

"That's better. Do you know why I did that?"

"Did what?"

"Don't be obtuse. Why I fucked you like that."

"Why did you?"

"Because you're the only guy in the unit who hasn't been trying desperately to get into my pants since I arrived. The rest of them are such pitifully obvious horndogs, even the commander, but you, you're different."

"How so?"

"You can take me or leave me, and you're your own man. I like that." She walked to the back of the car and removed her suitcase, then walked back to face him.

"I'm flying back to Cincinnati for a few days to finalize my divorce. I'm getting back Wednesday night at 1900. Can you pick me up?"

He finally gave into the reality of the situation, and she was such a knockout. "You know it, Debra."

"Good, see you then. Get a lot of rest. You'll need it." With a quick kiss on his lips, she turned on her heel and walked toward the terminal.