As the commander over an Army training cadre, an assignment I didn’t want or seek, I had to deal with a host of disciplinary issues from time to time. I had to be fair in the administering of military justice and insure our main goal of teamwork and producing a well trained soldier remained centrist to everything we did.

After disciplining two female recruits that had been caught in bed together--something for which either could have been easily discharged, I had struck up a special relationship with one of the recruits that had been assigned to extra duties in my living quarters and office. Her extra duty assignment was working out well for her, but I didn’t have any idea how her training buddy was faring.

I called in my first sergeant and told him I wanted to talk with Private Thompson. It was not unusual for me to have a follow up conversation with a recruit after a discipline issue, so “Top” said he would send the recruit to see me, at the end of the day. This was fine with me. I asked our unit clerk to give me the Private’s personnel record for review.

I went to lunch and when I returned, I thumbed through the personnel file for Private Jenna Thompson, from Fort Worth, Texas. I was from Fort Worth as well, so I found it fortuitous that she would be from the same place where I had grown up.

About seven that evening, the Charge of Quarters (CQ) knocked on my office door and alerted me that Private Thompson was there to see me.

“Send her in,” I ordered.

A few seconds later, a very disheveled looking Army recruit entered my office. She stood at attention and rendered a hand salute.

“Sir! Private Thompson, reporting as ordered, sir!”

I put her “at ease” and she dutifully folded her hands behind her back, shifting her stance to accommodate the “at ease” position.

“Tough day?” I asked.

“Sir, yes, sir!” she answered, snapping back to attention.

“Okay, soldier,” I replied. “You don’t have to snap to attention every time I ask a question.”

“Thank you, sir,” she responded.

I looked at her personnel folder, sitting on my desk and remarked that I knew she was from Fort Worth.

“Sir! Yes, sir,” she replied.

I told her I was also from Fort Worth and that it was great to meet a fellow Fort Worth native.

“Can you ride?” I inquired. Being from Fort Worth, she knew I was asking about her abilities to handle a horse.

“Sir, yes, sir,” she replied.

“How are things going?” I inquired.

“They are going great, sir,” she replied matter-of-factly.

“ And the extra duty?” I asked.

“Well, sir ... To be honest, it’s tough,” she replied.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“KP, sir”, she replied, referring to the Army acronym for “kitchen patrol”, which encompasses everything from peeling potatoes to washing trays and flatware.

Jenna had a dark complexion and curly jet-black hair, cut to the regulations length. She looked good in her battle dress uniform (BDU) which had a snug fit. Her dark brown eyes seemed to capture my attention. She had a model quality look and I wondered why she had joined the Army.

“My dad was in the Army and so was my uncle,” she replied to my question.

“Amy Recruiting should use you,” I remarked. “You are easy on the eyes.”

“I need a little cleaning up,” she replied.

“You’re more than welcome to use my shower,” I replied.

“Sir, thank you sir,” she replied, “but enlisted soldiers are not allowed to-”

“-Fraternize with officers,” I remarked, cutting her off, mid-sentence and finishing off her thought and sentence.

“Sir, yes, sir,” she responded.

I stood up and walked over to where she stood in front of my desk.

“I am going to tell you the very same thing I told Private Lovejoy,” I remarked. “Long before I was an Army officer, I was simply a man. The same is true with you. You’re a woman, a damn good looking, sexy woman and whether you wear the uniform or not, you’re still a woman.”

“Sir, yes sir,” she responded, “But--”

I cut her off again, mid-sentence.

“But nothing,” I interrupted. “You need a shower, so take your sweet ass in to my shower, and get cleaned up!”

She looked at me, unsure of what to do.

“Okay,” I remarked, seeing her hesitation. “I’ll put it more simply. I think I have something you want, something you need, something you might even desire, but it is up to you. No one is forcing your hand here.”

As I spoke, I stripped out of my BDU blouse and hung it on a hook located on my office wall. I pulled my Army green t-shirt off and tossed it on to my couch.

“I don’t want to get into trouble, sir,” she remarked. I stepped past her and locked the door to my office.

“No one is going to get in any trouble,” I remarked. I stepped in front of her, my bare chest at eye level.

Her breathing was labored and I could tell she was nervous.

I reached out and took her hand and placed it directly on my bare chest.

“Do you feel that heartbeat?” I asked.

“Yes, sir,” she replied as I held her hand on my chest.

“It is connected to other body parts that are as equally strong,” I remarked. I could see her thinking.

“Jenna Thompson,” I remarked, “I like the name Jenna. Can I call you Jenna?”

“Sir, yes sir,” she replied.

“Jenna,” I remarked, looking her straight in her dark brown eyes, “Would you like to take a shower with me?”

“Sir ...

yes ... sir,” she replied softly.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “I don’t want you to feel pressured to do anything you don’t feel comfortable doing.”

“I would have no problems in sharing a shower with you,” she replied. “I’m not stupid.”

I unbuttoned the four buttons of her BDU use blouse as she stood in front of me. I parted her uniform blouse and slowly helped her out of it, slipping it off of her shoulders and down her well tanned arms. She reached behind her back and unsnapped her bra, allowing the shoulder straps to fall over her shoulders. She eased out of her bra and let it fall to the floor, her 38DD breasts set free. I lightly touched her erect nipples with my finger, tracing a path down to her belt. I loosened her belt, as she watched me unfasten it and unbutton her BDU trousers. Her trousers instantly fell to the floor around her boots.

I took her by the hand and she shuffled to my couch. I helped her out of her boots and slid her BDU trousers off. I could smell the mustiness of her excitement, mixing with her sweat through her black panties.

I took her hand in mine and lead her through a door, at the back of my office, in past my bunk, to my private shower. I turned on the shower, as she stripped out of her panties. She had a small landing strip of pubic hair, very neatly cropped and trimmed, leading to her honey pot. She stood in silence as the water warmed and I stripped naked. There was no hiding my excited state. My cock arched upwards.

She smiled and remarked,

“I see someone appears to be happy."

“He will be happier,” I remarked, “when he is relieved of his duties.”

She smiled and wrapped her hand around my swollen cock. I dutifully followed her into the shower. She knelt in front of me, the water cascading off of her chiseled body, and curly black hair. She looked up at me and again smiled.

I closed my eyes as she wrapped her soft pink lips around my cock. She worked it back and forth in her mouth. I held on to her head as she worked me in and out of her orifice. I had to slow things down. I lathered up a soft sponge and pulled her into a standing position. I washed every nook and cranny of her luscious body. As she rinsed the soap suds, I applied the soapy sponge to my own body.

“Let me,” she remarked, taking the sponge from my hand. She slowly and seductively moved the sponge across my chest and shoulders, then slowly worked her way to other parts, paying special attention to my private parts. I took the sponge from her and slipped my hand around her waist, and my tongue into her mouth. She was like a firecracker, about to explode. The fuse was lit.

I took her hand and led her directly to my bed. We were both dripping wet, but it didn’t seem to matter.

She settled back on to my bed and spread her legs. Using her fingers, she spread open her pussy. Only then did I notice a small message very lightly tattooed just to the right of her pussy, on her inner thigh. Two simple words: “Insert here.”

I had to smile. I positioned my body over hers. She was more than ready. I slid my cock straight into her steaming hot pussy. There was no resistance. It was as if any obstructions or inhibitions had melted away.

As my seven inch cock entered her womb, she shivered. She grabbed my buttocks to hold me in place, as she thrust her hips up and down.

“Oh yeah . . .” she exclaimed, “Give it to me!”

I pushed until I couldn’t push any more, my pelvic bone crashing down on to hers.

“Oh, fuck yeah!” she exclaimed, “Oh, yesss!”

The harder I pushed, the more animated and vocal she became.

“Fuck me….Fuck me! Fuck me. Harder! Fuck me ... Ohhh! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” she extolled.

Suddenly, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and I watched as she turned deep red, crimson and then ashen white. Her breathing became rushed and rapid. I thought for sure she would pass out, but she didn’t.

Our hip thrusts were matched perfectly. I couldn’t hold back.

“I’m going to cum,” I said.

“Give it to me!” she extolled.

The first shot of cum filled her to overflowing. I pulled back and a second, stronger jet, shot across her chest and struck her chin. I apologized. She didn’t care. She shook and quivered, her hands fisted and tight.

“I needed this,” she remarked, “More than you would ever know.”

We lie in my bed for the longest time, just cuddling. After a second shower to clean up, I apologized again.

“It was not my intention,” I remarked, “to seduce you.”

She was gracious in her response.

“I was hoping to be seduced,” she responded, “In fact, now I am worried.”

“Worried?” I asked, “About what?”

“You can’t just leave me like this, I am hooked,” she responded.

“Well,” I replied, “I may just have to talk with Top and have you assigned to a special duty job as my private CQ for a while.”

She looked at me and smiled.

“Really?”

“Really,” I replied. “The only catch is that you’d have to share duties with Lovejoy.”

“Share duties? As in a threesome?” she inquired, her eyes widening.

“That’s your call,” I replied.

I could see her thinking.

“Bring her on,” she replied. “If it is all for teamwork, I am all about teamwork.”

I couldn’t help but remember my welcome speech to new recruit class.

“Trainees, you will be tested. You will be tried. In the end, the successful soldier is not the strongest, or the one with the highest scores on the rifle range, or the one who is first in every challenge. The successful soldier is one who works well in a team effort, who brings to the table, the best skill-sets for the benefit of the entire team and that is willing to serve others, no matter the reason or need.”

The team was in place and I was seeing progress that made me happy.