Soldier Doll Ch. 03

Dylan looked pained.

"Mike, the reason we came...!"

But Mike cut him short.

"I know why you're here, and Louise, and it should be no problem, I just need your brain for another three weeks, that's all I'm asking. And speaking of three weeks, I need to ask you a favour too, Louise."

Louise and Dylan looked at each other, then back at Mike, who grinned apologetically.

"Louise, I need to ask you a very big favour; a very good friend of mine has asked for the loan of a good surgeon; he has a replacement on the way, but he has a three-week gap that he needs to fill, so I said I'd ask you. You don't have to say yes, it's a huge ask, I know, and I can't force you, but I will ask you to help out another doctor in urgent need."

Louise looked sideways at him.

"Just where exactly is this friend of yours located?" she asked suspiciously.

Mike gave a wry grin, appreciating her caution.

"He's based at Camp Bastion...in Afghanistan...!"

"NO!" No fucking way, I am not letting my wife...!" burst out Dylan, looking hard at Mike, who kept on watching Louise throughout Dylan's outburst.

Louise looked thoughtful.

"If I say yes, you'll guarantee three weeks then out, right?" and Mike nodded emphatically.

"Three weeks then out, replacements or not; you're helping to plug a gap, not signing-on for the duration, I guarantee it. As a little added insurance, I'm sending a couple of the boys along to act as unofficial bodyguards; they'll see you come to no harm."

"Who are you sending?" interrupted Dylan.

Mike grinned.

"I was thinking Tibor Kovacs and Pip Collins, a Spetznatz and an SAS sergeant; no-one is going to mess with Louise with those two hulking specimens shadowing her every step!"

Dylan was slightly mollified.

"They're good guys, and Louise likes them; OK, but I still don't like it; three weeks only, and if I come back from Brunei and she's not here to meet me, there'll be hell to pay, and I mean that most sincerely!"

Mike looked him in the eyes, all too aware of just what kind of 'hell' Dylan Lewis was capable of unleashing.

"I promise you, Dylan, if they try any funny stuff or pull any strokes to keep her there even one minute longer than twenty-one days, I'll personally go and get her myself, if I have to take all the boys with me to do it! Tibor and Pip will watch her like hawks, if anyone tries anything with her, they're going to discover what happens when you rile up a Spetznatz and a Welshman with a short fuse!"

Dylan leaned back in his seat, his arm going around Louise.

"When does this happen, Mike?"

"Tomorrow morning!" he said, to gasps from both Dylan and Louise. Dylan leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Mike's face.

"No, impossible, no way, I just got back after three months, I've earned more than just a 24-hour furlough before being shunted out again. It's not gonna happen!"

Mike grinned wryly.

"I knew you'd say that! Really, though, I wouldn't ask except you're the best at this kind of operation, you have a feel for it that none of the other guys seem to possess, and I trust you to do it right. No-one else here is up to it, otherwise I'd be asking them, not breaking up your reunion. The best I can do is offer you double your usual in-country rate, and give you an additional one week double rate on top as a bonus on completion. That's nearly $50,000 for three weeks work. I'm sorry Dylan, but I really need your boots on the ground out there, if anyone else would do, I'd send them, but you're the only one I trust for something like this..."

Dylan squirmed uncomfortably; he didn't like making Mike beg; he owed him too much, but still...

Louise nudged him, and pulled his head down so she could whisper in his ear.

"Go ahead, gariad; I can wait another three weeks! I'm needed out in Helmand, it's for the mob, your mob, they need doctors, perhaps I can make a difference, and God knows, at least I'll be away from constantly doing bypass surgery on fat bastards! Besides, I'll have Tibor and Pip with me; if they ever want to taste any of my Spiced Bread Pudding again, they'll look out for me!"

Dylan looked her steadily in the eyes.

"If you're sure..." he whispered back, and nodded back at her affirmative nod.

"Okay Mike, it's a deal. Three weeks, then I'm hopping a flight, and Lou's here to meet me. Which brings me to the reason we wanted to see you...?"

Mike held up his hand.

"Way ahead of you, Dylan. Both of your contracts have been terminated as complete, I inked-in a date three weeks tomorrow, and you both get end-of-contract bonuses, as agreed, based on your current pay status, not the original pay rate you came in at. It's already been processed, all you have to do is be here on the day to sign-off and collect your tickets home, as per your contract. Your pay and bonuses will be deposited in your off-shore accounts, have fun spending it!"

As they strolled back to their bungalow they mulled-over what they'd agreed to; Dylan was deeply worried about letting Louise go to a war-zone, but conversely he was also relieved that the two most capable fighting men he knew of were going to be her personal guardian angels while she was out there. Tibor Kovacs was renowned for his devastating close quarter in-fighting abilities; Spetznatz training involved a large amount of Savate, Tae-Kwondo and Jiu-Jitsu, distilled by the Spetznatz cadre into a close-combat fighting style that was fluid, athletic and a joy to watch; he was built like a brick outhouse, a square, emotionless Slavonic face hiding a shy, helpful personality. Louise was one of his favourite people, he was always telling her she reminded him of his little sister, Mariska, and he had a weakness for her mother's recipe tea-laced spicy bread pudding bordering on addiction.

Pip Collins was a fellow Welshman, big, dark, and taciturn, born and raised in the Rhondda Valley in South Wales, a descendant of generations of coal-miners, and an ex-SAS sergeant. He was a master of stealthy movement and explosively lethal directed violence when necessary, and a true expert in the use of that K-Bar knife always protruding from his right boot-top; he constantly radiated a feeling of extreme violence barely held in check, a lingering sense that when he did go off, it would be like a claymore mine...

The combination of the two of them gave Dylan reassurance in large measure; with them along, Lou would be as safe as possible in that miserable place.

Once they got back indoors, Louise asked Dylan what he wanted for dinner, always a dangerously leading question!

Dylan pulled her close, popping the button on her jeans and sliding his hands down the backs to cup her peach buttocks.

"I want bum-burger and hot split clam surprise, are you up for it?" he grinned lecherously, squeezing her perfect cheeks as he pulled her close.

Louise grinned back.

"You're a very dirty man, my daddy warned me about boys like you!" she breathed, nipping his neck as she squeezed his rapidly erecting cock and ground her pussy against him, feeling her clitoris throb as she began to heat up.

"Three months, Lou, three fucking months, I've got a lot of catching up to do, and, as you're leaving tomorrow...!"

Dylan slid her jeans down as she yanked his tee over his head and fumbled with the buttons on his service-issue trousers, making sure she squeezed him properly as she tugged the camouflage trousers down.

Dylan groaned and kicked his clothes away, tugging down his briefs as Louise slid off her panties and turned away from him to drop them on the chair. Dylan was momentarily dazzled by the sight of her trim, rounded rear before moving in for the kill. His hands slid around her waist and up her ribcage, to cup and squeeze her small, firm breasts, the nipples already hard and prominent against his cupping palms. He pulled her close against him, his cock nestling in the crack of her bum, his lips grazing on her soft, smooth neck and shoulder, and she responded by wriggling as she sighed, seating the solid bar of ridged flesh more comfortably between her plush buttocks.

"Oo-er, Soldier-Boy, what's that you're poking me with?" she sighed, rubbing her bottom up and down on his throbbing cock.

Dylan mumbled into her neck as he groped her breasts more diligently, squeezing, lightly pinching and rubbing the solid nipples, making her sigh and rub herself harder on him.

"Bedroom...now...!" she gasped, breaking away to tug him toward the door. As soon as they were in sight of the bed, she threw herself on him, bearing him backward and landing astride him on the bed as he fell. Louise leaned forward and rubbed her swelling clitoris on the mat of hair at the base of his cock, sighing happily at the sensations this brought, while Dylan grinned and took a double handful of her delectable rear, squeezing and kneading the cheeks as she pleasured herself on him. Louise leaned forward to kiss him, and Dylan took the opportunity to raise his midsection and prod at her damp pussy with his surging erection, letting her know he was ready. Louise grinned and took hold of him, guiding him into herself and sliding back down a little to take him fully into her wet slit, hissing in satisfaction as he filled her up, stretching her so pleasurably.

Dylan lay back as she rode him, her eyes closed as she danced above him, her hips gyrating as she pumped and slid on his cock, her fingers rubbing and playing with her small hard nipples as she went to her own special place, lost in a haze of pleasurable sensation, her hips circling as she pumped and rode him. Dylan responded by pumping back against her, raising up as she ground herself against him, their breath hissing in the silent room as they ground and pounded at each other, straining to reach that plateau, that place where all pleasure was one.

Louise slumped forward, gasping as her orgasm overtook her, her body shaking as the tremors rolled and battered through her, her cunt squeezing him mercilessly as she clamped down. Dylan responded with a groan as he too climaxed, the pressure on his cock almost too much to bear as jet after jet of creamy spunk pulsed from him and into her depths, the sensation rolling her orgasm on and on.

At last the shuddering waves of pleasure died away, leaving her weak, winded, blurry-eyed with tiredness. Louise slumped down on Dylan, her body still twitching in adrenaline-shock, the legacy of her high level of arousal and climax. Dylan was in no better shape, barely able to move as he too twitched and thrilled in the aftermath of his explosive climax, his cock slowly shrinking inside her, to eventually slide out, bathed in the rush of semen from the enormous quantity he'd pumped inside her.

Louise rolled off him, almost too tired to move, but still reaching for him, for her Soldier-Boy, something closely akin to post-coital tristesse flooding over her as she contemplated the next three weeks of meatball surgery, almost tempted to tell Mike the deal was off, she was going home; but she'd promised, and boys like Dylan had been, young soldiers on their first active deployment, they were going to need her. Dylan was unhappy about her going, but understood why she'd agreed. Even after all these years, so long away from the spit and polish and routine of Army life, he still 'bled green' as his former squad-mates would have put it; in his heart, Dylan knew he was a born soldier, had been one, one of the elite even, until that fire-fight had cost him his dream; even today, a civilian contractor thousands of miles from the war-zone, she knew his heart was there still, on-ops with his regiment, the only thing he'd ever wanted. Louise traced his jawline with a lazy finger, smiling as he turned to look sleepily at her, her smile partly for herself as she acknowledged that Dylan, seven years away from the war, a civilian now, still followed the drum; he still thought of himself as one of them, one of those soldier-boys out there, and she was being asked to help them; for Dylan, she'd do it, because those boys were his family too.

Louise woke with a start, huddled against Dylan to keep warm against the chill from the air-conditioning unit; she looked at her watch, almost 10 o'clock, long past dinner-time, but she was starving, and if she knew Dylan, he'd be up soon and looking for something to eat. She slid off the bed and pulled a robe on, slipping soundlessly out of the room to pad into the kitchen and rummage through the freezer, from which she took a pair of frozen steak pies and a pack of French Fries.

"Pie and chips, not much of a 'Welcome Back' dinner!" she mused, grinning ruefully as she slid the pies onto a tray and put them in the oven, set the timer and decided she had time for a shower before dinner.

She was miles away in a world of her own, revelling in the hot water and steam when a pair of hands slipped around her waist and slid up to cup and catch her breasts.

"Hello little girl, can I help you wash your pee-pee?" husked Dylan in his best 'Dirty Old Man' voice, licking her ear as he flicked and squeezed her nipples, making her gasp and giggle as she ground her bum into his crotch.

"I can do that quite well without your help, you dirty, dirty little boy!" she giggled, then gasped as his solid cock slid between her thighs and rubbed along her labia. As he continued to lick and nibble her ear, and squeeze and pull at her stiff nipples, he began to thrust more seriously between her legs, the feel of his thick, ridged cock dragging in the furrow between her lips driving her crazy with need for him. Louise leaned against the shower cubicle wall, pushing out her bum to show Dylan what she wanted him to do. Dylan, as always, enthralled by the sight of her perfect, sculpted rear, wasn't slow to take the hint. Holding tightly to her thrusting tits, he slid his cock into her hot recess, both of them hissing as he slid all the way into her, until he was in her to the hilt, his thighs resting against the backs of hers. He remained perfectly still, savouring the feel of his stiff cock embedded in her hot, glove-tight pussy, the warmth of her lovely peach bottom pressed against him, the feel of her firm breasts clasped firmly in his hands. Louise waited for a while, then squeezed him impatiently, anxious for him to continue.

"If you don't do something soon I'm calling the Pool-Boy!" she whispered, causing Dylan to grin as he slowly backed out of her, to slam himself back in as hard as he could.

"Ooof! Careful, Soldier Boy, you're not pushing a jeep out of a pot-hole!" she giggled, the laugh turning to a sighing gasp as his hand slipped down to rub and caress her hooded clitoris, the sensation making her whole body thrill and shudder pleasurably.

"Yes, Dyl, like that...ooohhh...yes, ooohhh God, yeeesss!" she moaned as he thrust and pumped into her, his hand rubbing her in time with his thrusts into her. Combined with his other hand playing with her nipples, it was only a few minutes before it was all too much for her. She came with a strangled moan, her pussy clamping around his cock and almost tipping him over the edge as she shuddered and moaned, orgasm slamming through her body with the force of a tidal wave, her ears popping with the force of it.

Dylan gasped as her pussy clamped down on him, the velvety soft tightness too much for him to bear, and he too orgasmed, groaning out loud as a powerful jet of spunk hosed out of him and into her, then again and again, long satisfying pulses of hot semen filling her as he held her tight to himself, until he was empty, his cock dry heaving as the last of his sperm trickled into her, the last remnants of the flood of spunk he'd jetted into her. He slumped against her, his lips finding her neck as his heart hammered a tattoo against her back, Dylan kissing her hands as she reached up to cup and caress his face.

"Thank you Dyl, that was amazing...as always! That should hold us for the next couple of weeks; just remember, three weeks from tomorrow and we're on a plane away from here and all this forever, okay?"

His hands gripped her waist as he gently kissed the back of her neck, then blew softly into her ear, making her cringe and giggle.

"Of course, baby-girl, I meant it when I said I was done. Three weeks and we're back in Wales, and OPEC, The Arab League, The Gulf States, the global petro-chemical complex, all of them, they can all go fuck themselves, I'm done, forever! Now, is that pie and chips I can smell? It better be, because I'm bloody starving!"

*

Louise watched Dylan's flight take off from King Khalid International in Riyadh, loss and need already churning inside her, and the hostile looks from the other travellers in their traditional Berber costume as she stood in desert boots, DPM uniform covers and Tee-shirt and with her head uncovered doing nothing to put her at ease; no-one said anything, though; even the lunatic Religious Police recognised just how much grief they'd cop from the scary-looking bunch of men surrounding her if they made a move, and none of them relished the thought of spending the next few days in hospital while the doctors tried to figure out how to get their head out of their own arse; sometimes discretion really was the better part of valour...

Pip Collins put his hand on her arm and squeezed gently.

"You'll see him again in three weeks, Louise, don't worry, Mike promised you, and he never goes back on his word. And now we have to go; our flight's waiting for us and Tibor's looking impatient, so let's get a move on, eh?"

Louise grinned as she looked up at the hulking Tibor Kovacs, his face expressionless, as usual, and wondered how Pip could tell he was impatient; to her, Tibor always looked exactly the same; impassive, no expression ever showing on his face, whether sitting down to dinner with her and Dylan, or stretched out on a gurney while she sutured a sucking leg wound.

Pip hefted her flight bag and Tibor offered her his arm as they made for their departure gate, again the Religious Police deliberately not seeing the western woman arm in arm with two dangerous-looking westerners, with another four or five as an impromptu retinue, choosing instead to hassle and harass incoming tourists and migrant workers.

*

The three of them disembarked at Kabul, Louise stopping momentarily to look around at the heavily barricaded and defended perimeter. Sighing, she squared her shoulders and clambered gingerly down the swaying steps, weighed-down by the Osprey body armour and too-large Mk. VII helmet. Pip followed her and pointed at the heavy Mastiff transport halted about 100 metres away. The commander in the cab waved and spoke into his Bowman, and the 6-wheeled Mastiff lurched as it turned ponderously, heading for their party. As it stopped, the main hull door unlocked, and Tibor swung it open, motioning her inside while he and Pip scanned the perimeter continuously. Louise was struck by their elevated vigilance, driving home just how bloody dangerous this place really was; that and the anti-RPG cages clothing both sides and the rear of the vehicle, and of course the mine-deflection hull itself. Tibor and Pip automatically shielded her at all times while she climbed into the vehicle, using their bodies to protect her should a random sniper decide to fire on the vehicle while it was stopped. Once they were all seated, with the door closed and locked, the vehicle lurched as it started off for the trek back to Camp Bastion, the British Armed Forces operating base in Helmand over 400 miles away.

"Glad to have you aboard, Doctor Lewis, welcome to Afghanistan!" called the commander, "Sorry about the transport, no Chinooks to spare, and besides, the bloody Taliban think we put them up so they've got something to shoot at, so this is the safest way, I'm afraid! There's not much room, but you may be able to stretch out on the floor; it's a long way to the bastion, about 400 miles, so you should probably try and get some sleep."