Life as a New Hire Ch. 42

How did they do that? They are dredging the ocean floor ... it is a man-made island. Didn't your government protest the environmental damage they were causing?

No, not the Khanate -- the Chinese.

Yes, the Khanate currently controls it. They stole it from the PRC hours before the ceasefire. So, can we have it?

Yes, we know it belonged to the People's Republic, but it doesn't anymore. Besides, we both opposed it when the Chinese were dredging it up the island from the sea floor, so giving it to us isn't all that egregious, or unexpected, action. It would also go a long way in supporting our just and worthy claims to the Spratly Islands. We really don't want those greedy Chinese -- yes, both the People's Republic and the 'Republic of' -- or, those incompetent Filipinos to steal them from us.

Both of us knocking the Vietnamese back on their heels will be going a long way to getting those Communist knuckle draggers to back off as well. Hey, if they do get antsy, can we also take the Vietnamese base in the Spratly's? It isn't as big as the one the Khanate stole, but it is finished ... and closer to us. We are sure that if we help you out, you will do the right thing when the time comes. Right?

The President of the United States --

'They want what? Have they lost their fucking minds?

The Philippines is talking about a billion dollar aid package and guaranteed loans we doubt they can ever repay. We only want to use their air bases for a month, maybe two, not deflower their teenage daughters. It isn't as if we are really going to go to war with the Khanate over Thailand. Besides, the last time we 'got involved' like that, George Bush ran up a trillion dollar deficit ... and his party was thrown out of office. Doesn't anyone care we are facing a difficult mid-term election in November?

So ... the Taiwanese think this is the appropriate moment to invade mainland China? And they want our help? Do they know how expensive that can get? Do they understand how much that will unbalance the already shake state of Asian affairs? It is another land war in Asia for the love of God!'

And ... the Malaysians are going to help us, but not actually help us and they want tens of billions square miles of ocean for the measly concessions they are making? What do they expect us to do with all the Filipinos, Chinese and Vietnamese who already live there?

What do you mean none of those islands are actually inhabited? They are just military bases ... some of them nothing more than rusting iron hulks on submerged reefs? OH, God damn it! Why don't we take the God damn Spratly Islands for ourselves if they are that fucking important? We have a Marine Corp. Aren't they good at taking islands? I read about it somewhere.

No, I'm not changing the damn mission. I'm venting because the world seems to be inhabited with greedy assholes who can't appreciate peaceful discourse without trying to lift my wallet.

Okay ... okay ... I've got this. We are going to form a new international commission to resolve this Spratly Island's nightmare. Have the French chair it. They love that kind of stuff. Makes sure the Germans are on the commission too. They need to look less like money-grubbing douchebags after that fiasco over the Greek economic collapse. Then invite Russia, India and Pakistan. That will pretty much guarantee nothing gets accomplished.

That will allow us to keep our promises to those three leeches without having to deliver anything and, when it fails, it won't be seen as my fault. [Groan] What we really need is new videos of Khanate soldiers bayoneting babies, another ISIS atrocity, or more indisputable evidence the Russian Army's involvement in the Ukraine. The Great Khan really screwed us over Tibet [you know, by allowing them to become a free and democratic society], Putin is an evil cocksucker [who most likely laughs at me behind my back] and another round of Islamophobia-bashing to remind everyone how this is all Bush's fault.

No wonder George spent so much time at Crawford Ranch. Navigating international relations is totally thankless and no matter how rosy we paint the latest economic numbers, someone still finds a way to make me look bad. Oh well, if this blows up in my face, I only have two more years in this shooting gallery. Maybe then I might change my mind and decided I really was born in Kenya ... or Indonesia. I really wish Hawaii was an independent country. I'd like to retire there if there weren't so many of those damn contentious Americans.

The US President wanted to run this operation on a shoestring, not engage in 'nation-building', much less backing an invasion of anybody. In fact, he was trying to stop an invasion.

The Philippines was a poor country. So what? It wasn't his fault. He had poor people in the US too and they cast votes.

Taiwan suddenly thought it could take on China? They were insane. Of course he would be ignoring a major stated political goal of the ROC for the past 65 years ~ reunification on their terms. Any high-level technological transfer wasn't going to happen because if the Republic ran off the reservation, the President would bloody well be sure no one could trace that decision back to anything he'd done.

At least Malaysia was on board ... sorta/kinda. They wouldn't actually be able to help until day ten ... or fourteen and, unlike the Republic of China, they had a small air force that might not be able to protect forwardly deployed troops. If he ended getting of those National Guard yahoos killed his party would be murdered in November.

For a split second, he wondered if he should attempt to make a personal call to the Great Khan -- potentate to potentate ... except he had this sinking feeling that a winning smile and a handshake would be worse than useless. The man would look him straight in his eyes and start making demands. He would demand action and when the Leader of the Free World prevaricated, he knew the Khanate would call his bluff.

And they would fight. The alternative was a grand spectacle of public humiliation and that he could not accept. The US military machine would fight and they would win. They would win because he needed them to win -- fast and clean and home for Christmas. Maybe he would authorize the mobilization of those California airmen. Just in case.

In the end, Secretary Kerry gave POTUS what he asked for.

The Philippines would let them use their country's bases for logistics and strategic assets (aka bombers).

The ROC would extend their air umbrella out 200 km to the east, south and west, acting like a shield between the Khanate and US Pacific assets moving through the tight Formosan Straits.

Malaysia gave them an airbase from which they could strike into Thailand, or Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos. The US Air Force would have the opportunity to be lethally effective.

Had they known the sum total of the US commitment, they would have been appalled. The Khanate did not fuck around.

One Carrier Strike Group ...

Forty (maybe sixty) Air Force fighters ...

Lumbering B-52's flying half way around the globe ...

Hadn't they been watching the dogfights over China for the past month? Maybe they would like to dive down and examine the wreckage of the PLAN carrier Liaoning and see just how it met its grisly fate?

Apparently not.

(I live, love and have loved)

"What are you doing here?" she got the preliminary nonsense out of the way. With the way she was dressed, I was an expected visitor. She was expecting some make-up sex. I was thinking 'paying for my past mistakes' sex because I was already seeing way too many women who required me to do things outside the bedroom -- non-sexual things. I had my dress jacket swung over my shoulder. It would only get in the way later.

"I brought you motorcycle over. You left it parked by my place," I kept any appearance of lust, or glee off my face.

"It is one o'clock in the morning," she glowered.

"I was called into work. I'm on call 24/7."

"Let me guess, you can't talk about it."

"You wouldn't believe me if I did, so suffice it to say I was doing things I didn't want to do instead of coming over here ... waking you up from a sound sleep."

"I wasn't asleep. I was angry," I pointed out.

"I apologize. Maybe I should have waited until morning." She didn't think I should have waited as long as I had. Keeping her waiting until morning would have left her volcanic.

"I wasn't asleep."

"Your bike is in the parking lot across the street," I handed her the lot ticket.

"How did you find it?"

"There are only two places in my neighborhood that allows parking and the second one is poorly lit," I replied.

"And the attendant let you steal it?" she frowned.

"He knows me. I do a ton of business with him and it wasn't as if I was dressed like your average carjacker."

"How did you start it?"

"Chaz showed me how to spoof the lock. He's got this spiffy lock-pick set on him."

"That he carries with him for such contingencies?"

"Hey, he's the spycraft professional. I'm the amateur who tags along because karma is a bitch," I grinned.

"Did you ruin the ignition?"

"No. He's got this skeleton key thingy. I need to get me one of those," I added. See, I was drifting down the path to becoming a hardened criminal and she had to save me. Girls love saving bad boys from themselves. There is an entire literary genre devoted to the topic.

"Get in here," Anais barked. She emphasized that command by grabbing my tie and dragging me into her room. Now I could ogle her in her bra, panties and dress shirt left open. As I said moments ago, she was expecting me. Anais had thick, light-brown, just-past-the-shoulders hair with blonde highlights. Her dusky skin tone suggested some ancestral link to the South of France while her deep green eyes suggested Celtic ties.

She was definitely someone I would describe as possessing an hourglass figure. She worked out just enough to stay fit, practiced judo (in and outside of the bedroom) and ate right. Her ass was the correct mix of firm and fleshy, her breasts were pleasant without too much bounce and she sported broad, but short, nipples that liked to get bitten.

With her bare foot, she kicked the door shut, spun me around by my tie until I slammed, back first, into the wall in the short hallway that led to her bedroom.

"I repeat, what are you doing here?"

"I never actually apologized for how things ended up," I sodomized the truth. "Anais, I am truly sorry for how badly I fucked up our affair. I acted without a thought for the possible consequences, or thinking about how betrayed you would feel. Can you accept my apology?"

"You came here to have sex," she declared. She stepped up tightly against my body, her eyes boring into mine. I had around six inches on her so she had to tilt up her chin to do so.

"That too," I shrugged.

"I ought to throw you out the window," she growled. We were on the seventh floor. The window didn't open and the safety glass looked alright.

"I'll go then," I nodded. Now to make her beg for/demand sex.

"You are not going anywhere," she snarled. Then she kissed me, a tongue-grapple ensued and she finished things by biting my lower lip so much I tasted blood afterwards. I dropped my jacket. I was about to need both my hands.

"I think us having sex would be a mistake," I pushed her buttons. I wasn't some wimp acquiescing to her demands. I was a free-willed being; a strong man who needed to be wrestled down and forced to perform.

She pulled me down into a second kiss. This was an 'I will leave you incapable of thinking about anything but me' kiss. Yes, I had names for kisses too. They were similar to naming the ingredients of a choice meal. I propelled her back until we slammed into the opposite wall. Anais was a tough chick and a bit of banging around was par for the course.

I cupped each ass cheek and pulled her up. She responded by wrapping her legs around my hips. We were still kissing. Anais slipped her hands along my sides before linking them up at the small of my back. She pulled me hard against her while she ground her crotch against mine.

"Clothes," she rumbled from deep within. As in 'why was I still dressed?'

"Been a while," I taunted her. Since she was glommed on to me, I used my freed up hands to rip off my tie.

"Yes. I bet it hasn't 'been a while' for you," she sizzled.

"Long as in 5:30 this morning," I teased back. At this point in the foreplay that revelation was akin to throwing gasoline on a fire. I was being an unrepentant dog and she was taking me to confessional -- between her thighs.

"Bastard," she condemned me as well as the entire male side of the species.

"It doesn't mean I haven't missed you -- this -- us," I riposted. She retaliated by turning her humping motion into to more of a grind. Bad kitty. Bad kitty wanted to be spanked. Woot!

"You are never going to change," she dug her fingernails into my flesh. I yanked my shirt off.

"If I hadn't changed, you wouldn't be here," I reminded her while nipping at her nose and lips.

"You are still an egocentric bastard," she growled.

"Hey, I always took care of your needs," I countered. I had. She knew I had and since she currently wanted me to take her to that higher erotic plane, she wasn't going to contest that fact. Instead, she began working her shirt off and in doing so, squishing her boobs against my chest.

Holding her tight -- my left hand under her right buttock and my right hand on her mid-back, pressing her torso into mine. We dance through two slow circles before crashing, side by side, on the bed. Anais rolled us over so that she was on top. I didn't let her get in a totally dominant pose -- oh no. I had a kitty to take care off. I grabbed her firm ass and propelled her up until I was face first with her gusset.

I might not remember to check my bank balance, or the atomic number of Technetium (I once had a girlfriend who would rate my performance on the periodic table in the midst of our fucking -- I never made it higher than Copernicium before she passed out), but I can recall the precise taste, texture and topography of every pussy I've had face to face contact with. I knew right where to tongue-fuck Anais to twist her up inside.

Control-orgasm, control-orgasm -- Anais was pig-headed and wanted to keep dictating our reunion. She also wanted to return to the level of sexual bliss we had shared so often before. Her compromise was to hump my face; really grind it in. Black silk underwear is an excellent medium for transferring force and wetness between partners.

She rubbed her love-nub against my upper lip/teeth while I did tongue-ups into her cunt. She was wetter than Bangladesh in the rainy season. That was an indicator of some serious masturbatory sessions stopping just short of orgasm before I arrived. I had some aching sensations to play with and I wasn't cruel. I maneuvered a hand between her thighs, underneath the band of her underwear and exposed her vaginal opening to my fingers and tongue while keeping that silky feel for her clitoris.

"Rrrrrrr," she began growling from the depths of her diaphragm. That was how she always was -- thundering like a female grizzly bear in heat. It was an expression with deep subharmonic components that caused the heart to flutter and her flesh to shimmer with the vibrations mixed with her bodily sweat.

"Come on, Baby," I urged her on.

That pissed her off. She was trying to hold off her orgasm for a few more seconds. My 'baby' crack shifted her resolve into anger allowing her climax to overwhelm her.

"RRRRaaaahhhhhhh," she howled. It didn't sound like a female coming to fruition. It was more akin to the sound European soccer hooligans made when their team scored a goal. The muscles in Anais' thighs were strumming along like the cords of a piano, her belly was undulating in and out, and her head had rolled back so that she was screaming to the ceiling.

The countdown was on. The people next door/across the hall/above or below us would be waking up ... think that someone had unleashed a wild animal in the hotel ... figure out they were not immediately on the menu ... then call the front desk, stating their fears as justifiable fact. Anais and I had been down that road before.

I gave Anais' flank a light smack to get her attention. Sure she looked back at me with simmering anger, yet she also knew the score. That had been round #1 in a nightlong bout of sexual conquest, rebellion and re-conquest. She drew her knees to her chest so she could pull off her damp panties in one swift motion. I worked off my shoes, pants, socks and underwear. While she soaked up my naked flesh (muscles, scars and all), she retrieved the phone from the side table and placed it beside her. She wouldn't want to break up our rhythm when the phone rang.

No romantic small talk interrupted our shared lust. She wanted that dick and I wanted to give it to her. I moved between her inviting thighs while she examined me, her upper body uplifted by her arms resting on her elbows. Bite-kissing-biting resumed. I slowly pushed her head to the bed with the force of my kisses and strength of my upper body pushing down on her. Somewhere along the way, I slipped into her.

Condom? Crap. I was slipping. I would have to pull out, because stopping to put a condom on would earn me some serious ferocity on her part. I plunged in. Anais placed her hands on my hips, claws beneath my kidneys, guiding my pace and power. I may have been on top, but she wasn't giving up on one ounce of control.

"Damn you," she hissed.

"Yes?" I leered.

"Fuck you."

"I'm working on it. Is there anything ..." I teased.

"Bastard ...," she looked away, "You remember how I like it."

"Whatever made you think I would forget?" I kept at it.

"Don't look so smug."

"I'm working on it," I looked smug. Anais dug her fingernails in. I had to be punished, just ask her.

"When do you have to go back to work?" she huffed.

"Six a.m. When do you have to go back?"

"I have two days off."

"Good to know," I stole a kiss from her lips painlessly. Good to know.

(Painful dreams)

I edged back into consciousness realizing that I was not alone. The muffled sense of my surroundings informed me that I wasn't really awake. She sat on my side of the bed, feet on the floor, side to me.

"Good evening, Dot," I yawned.

"Good morning, Cáel," the Goddess Ishara let her melodic voice float over me.

"Hold on," I interrupted her. I weaved as I leaned over, pawed at my pants (still trapped in the real world) and finally drew forth my offering.

"A fortune cookie," she chuckled. "I admire your dedication."

"It is a simple enough request and I aim to please." I hesitated. "We don't have much time, do we?"

"You are dreaming, not concussed, so we will be alright if we tread carefully," she told me. "This time, I have no cryptic warnings, or specious pieces of information. I am giving you a gift. Take my hand."

I did, not that I had much choice. We 'went' ... where to, I wasn't sure yet I suspected we were skirting the Weave itself where concepts like Time and Distance had little meaning.

The Goddess released my hand and I stepped out of the fog brought about by the abrupt nature of our progress to see a woman sitting beside a pool ... no, a sunken bath. She looked up at our approach. Oh shit, it was ...

"Cáel? You are Cáel, aren't you," she smiled. She stared at me with her blind eyes while waiting for my response with deaf ears.

"Yes, Tadêfi, I'm Cáel. How did you know?"

"I bear our shared life inside me," she graced me with her serene presence.

"Ah ... I was warned," I stopped myself. I was going to add 'this might happen'. That would be unfair as she appeared pleased with this alteration of her life path. "I was warned by the Goddess that she had something to show me. How are you feeling? Is there anything I can do for you?"