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Subject: {ASSM} An International Incident {ANW} (interr) RP
Date: Mon,  9 Sep 2002 18:10:05 -0400
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"An International Incident"
    by author's name withheld


   I was stationed in the Persian Gulf in 1991 during the
height of the Gulf War. I hated leaving Fort Stewart because
I had several prospects that were heating up nicely. I'd
have to put all my relationships on the back burner for
awhile and let them simmer, and just hope that the fires
didn't die out before I returned. But war is war, and like
thousands of other men, my plans were swept aside in its
swiftly moving tide.

   I found myself stuck on an isolated munitions site,
far away from any type of modern civilization, or the
comforts such a society provides. We were warned not to
approach any of the local Arabic women. Our sergeant said,
"They want our strong arms over here, but they don't want
our strong arms around their women. So, don't even think
about getting laid here." He laughed and said, "If you plan
on getting any relief for the duration of this conflict,
you'd better plan on becoming real familiar with your own
hand."

   I was assigned to guard duty, and believe me, guarding
munitions has got to be the world's most boring job. I just
stood there day after day feeling like an idiot. Everyday,
toward sundown, the same group of women would walk by
giggling and talking amongst themselves. One evening when I
was sitting there thinking of the beach on Jekyll Island, I
was jarred out of my reverie by one of the village women
calling out to me. "Hello soldier," she said coyly in her
heavily accented English, as her friends laughed and
continued on their way.

   She lifted her heavy black veil away from her face,
and smiled radiantly. I was pleasantly surprised, but
frustrated too. There were two heavy gauge chain link
fences, and mountains of coiled razor ribbon, between the
desert beauty and me. She walked away quickly to catch up
with her friends and I kept thinking, "I'd love to get her
alone somewhere, but how?" I knew it would be suicidal to go
into the village looking for her. So I started trying to
look for another way to meet with the forbidden flower. I
talked to the soldier guarding the gate about my dilemma,
and he told me that he'd let her in, as long as I would let
him watch our encounter. Two days later she walked by alone,
and I called out to her. She waited patiently as I ran out
the gates and met her. She spoke to me with her dark,
expressive eyes, wordlessly saying everything that a woman
needs to tell a man. One sight of her up close made me want
to convert to Islam and spend the rest of my days fucking
four fine daughters of Mohammed.

   I reached out to take her by the arm and was relieved
when she didn't pull away and dart down the street like a
gazelle. As I led her past the guard post, the guard grinned
at us and beckoned for his buddy to take over his post. It
was a court martial offense for both of us, but with SCUD
missiles exploding in the air above us, our only thoughts
were of taking any small pleasure that happened to pass our
way.

   She said her name was Alia, but that was about all I
could understand of her tongue. I led her inside the
munitions building and positioned her with her back up
against the wall. She swung off her long black veil and
revealed her waist-length, black hair. I ran my hands down
her smooth, silky tresses and felt the heat begin to mount.
Alia leaned up and kissed me hard and urgently. Her lips
were moist and pink and she began to thrust her warm, moist
tongue rapidly in and out of my mouth. After a minute of
this, she slowed down and explored my mouth with her
delightful tongue. It was an incredibly erotic kiss, and I
imagined the multitude of pleasures her lovely mouth could
bring. I wanted her to suck on my cock that was swelling
uncomfortably against my camouflaged jeans. She glanced down
and saw my predicament, and reached to free the willing
captive. She stroked my swollen cock through the fabric of
my fatigues, then reached down with her tiny hands and
unbuttoned my fly.

   Her perfume was strange--a scent almost like incense,
and her hands and feet were painted in intricate floral
patterns called henna, a traditional art form in Arab
culture. Alia's eyes, lined with ebony black kohl and rimmed
with bluish-black shadow, looked straight up at me in
invitation. She was an exotic, foreign creature, but my very
heart and soul longed to possess every inch of her. And she
was there at my beck and call, compliant and ready to do my
bidding. It was a gift from Allah.

   By this time I was desperate to be inside her, but I
didn't want to rush her. She was far from being a blushing
virgin, that much was obvious, but I didn't want to
accidentally make the wrong move. I definitely didn't want
her to change her mind and leave, so I tried to slow myself
down. I stepped back for a moment to take off my uniform and
combat boots. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the guard
smiling roguishly. He had positioned himself behind a stack
of MK-82 bombs, and was well out of Alia's line of sight. I
smiled myself, I must have made quite a silhouette standing
there stark naked with my cock at attention. I was obviously
making an impression on Alia. She took one look at my huge
cock and shook her head no. But there was no turning back
for me or my delightful captive. I glanced at the guard
again. He was getting impatient and made a motion for me to
lift up her skirts. I put my hand under her long skirt, then
ran both hands over her silky thighs. To my delight, I found
the way unbarred. She wasn't wearing any panties! I assumed
that these women would wear impenetrable chastity belt type
undergarments, and smiled to learn the truth.

   My cock throbbed as I stroked her hot pussy. She
smiled up at me and cocked her leg to one side so I could
enter her, but she was just so tiny. I lifted her up and set
her down on top of a MK-82, then lifted her skirts above her
waist. Alia unbuttoned her black cotton blouse and freed her
lovely brown breasts. I never realized how womanly her
figure was until I saw those round, firm double D's waiting
to be sucked and ravaged by me. Her nipples hardened when I
struck home for the first time. Over and over I rammed my
granite hard cock into her tight slit until she begged for
me to stop. But I was just getting started. After spurting
my heavy load of hot come into her welcoming cunt, I gazed
over to see the guard, stripped to his olive drab tee shirt
with his cock standing straight out. He was motioning for me
to turn her around.

   I pulled my cock out of her and turned her around
gently, so that she lay straddling the bomb. She was hugging
it tightly when I stepped back. The guard took my place,
moving faster than a Tomahawk Cruise Missile, and mounted
Alia from the back. We are both big men. I'm over six feet
tall and well built, and he's even bigger. I smiled as I
watched his huge cock slide into her slippery cunt and begin
pumping zealously. Alia began to look scared again. Then she
gazed over at me and saw me watching her getting fucked by
my comrade in arms. She made frantic motions to leave, but
he had her firmly pinned down. She was all his at that
moment. She was spiked firmly between his throbbing cock and
the bomb. "Settle down girl," he said soothingly, "I won't
be long." He laughed and said "I am an American G.I., I can
shoot straight and download before you know what hits you."

   I motioned for her to lie still and within a minute or
two the guard was dropping his wet, sticky load into her.
"Bombs away," he said brightly, then returned to his post
whistling a marching tune.

   After he left the building Alia gave me an angry shove
and pouted. I put my arms around her and drew her to my
chest. After a moment or two, she warmed up to me again and
laughed loud when she looked down and saw that I was
definitely ready for another round. I gathered up all our
clothing and laid them in a pile on the concrete floor, then
motioned for her to lie down. I mounted her again, face to
face, and fucked her slowly and luxuriously.

   Sounds of celebration, music and dance, came from the
village and I wondered what was going on. Alia told me that
it was a wedding and I realized that was the only way she
had gotten alone to meet with me. I imagined another exotic
Arabic girl, spreading her legs and getting fucked for the
first time in the village beyond, and stepped up my pace.
When I finally christened her cunt again with my second load
of come, she looked tired, but very happy. When she stood up
three loads of American come gushed down her thighs. I
stared at her moist, sticky thighs and she grabbed my hand
and kissed it. "Thank you soldier," she said softly.

   By the time I escorted my diminutive desert flower to
the front gate, it was dark. In half a second she
disappeared into a winding maze of alleys and side streets
and was gone. I never saw her again, but of all the things I
saw in the Persian Gulf, good and bad, Alia was definitely
the best.


-- The End --


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