I.
It had already been a long day.
I had to get up at oh-dark-thirty to go to a big family something-or-other for an old friend of mine who wanted me there, and so I obliged. Her name was Erica, and her silky, hourglass figure riding on top of her smooth legs had not lost its shape after twenty years. I realized she made me as horny now as she did when we were younger, but this was not the time for it. The fact that the humid 94-degrees made her slip dress look more like body paint did not help, but under the circumstances, I knew I would have to wait till I got home to lubricate my ejaculating machine.
Being a guy sucks sometimes. At least I got to ogle her once again for old times' sake. At least the erection felt good, and somehow feeling my testicles tingle underneath my hot, sticky clothes almost made the trip worthwhile.
Some three hours by car later, I was coming back to my hometown when the pager went off. "Oh fuck, now what?" I thought to myself. I was already running on nervous energy from the trip I frankly never wanted to make.
Search and Rescue was not something I ever thought about doing when I was growing up or going to college. It just happened that way. Once again, the thin blue line is getting called up, without regard to day or hour. Here we go again. Crap!
Within the hour, my sticky churchgoer clothes had been replaced with service BDU's, my penny loafers with leather Corcorans, my black sportcoat with a "twentyfour." That's what we call a field pack with enough first aid and emergency shelter doo-dads for a twenty-four hour emergency search. It was going to be a long weekend.
After two and a half bumpy hours on abandoned mountain roads, we made our way to the base camp. We were briefed in total darkness, the only lights being the stars, a few red-lighted headlamps, dim penlights and the occasional cigarette cherry. We knew we would be getting up again at oh-dark-thirty, which was now just a few hours away. We knew we would be sleeping, all six of us, like sardines inside our back country search vehicle. We knew, once again, that we were going to be making some very good friends tonight, running on nervous energy.
We made our way back to the "starship," the name by which we affectionately refer to our search vehicle. It was your average-sized four wheel drive vehicle, but the four different emergency radios, medical station, rescue gondola, backboards, satellite phones and our own collection of twentyfours made for a tight fit, even without our six uniformed, salty, tired bodies stacked in on top of it all. Good thing we're friends, I thought.
My head was already bobbing up and down with fatigue, and I was having momentary dreams in the brief flashes of drowsiness. I knew I was too fucking tired and that I needed as much rest as I could get. The noisy, disruptive conversation did not help. We each took turns in a verbal "truth or dare" to see who would reveal the most of their sexuality. What the hell, they know me already, I thought.
As our six savory personalities blathered on in the darkness, we broke every taboo from masturbation, premature ejaculation, pre-menstrual syndrome, the pros and cons of married sex, our most embarrassing sexual moments, and then some. Typical late night conversation for our search team.
As the conversation got quieter and I came closer and closer to sweet sleep, Jessica mentioned out loud that she could not sleep very well in her BDUs and boots, but she could not sleep at all in her bra. Somehow, the very mention of the word "bra" managed to provoke an erection out of me, and my mind raced back to ogling my old friend just that morning. I remembered all the late night telephone conversations with her back in the day, usually about her boy gossip or her homework. Sometimes she would confide her sexual insecurities and regrets to me. I gladly listened to her, wondering if she ever knew how hard it made me, especially as sexy as she was. She must have known, because she would tease me about masturbating over the phone while she talked to me about her sex life. She was more on the mark than I ever told her.
In an instant I popped out of my wet dream by the sensation of fabric touching my face, carrying the unmistakable scent of female pheromones. Jessica had taken her bra off and handed it off to me for safe keeping. How she saw me in the dark I'll never know. She asked me to tuck it inside her twentyfour, but I couldn't help taking my time. I just wanted to enjoy this brief instant of her vicarious sexuality while I could. Just a few moments of knowing that her feminine scent was touching my face, her bra, which moments before had been cradling her soft, firm, supple breasts.
My mind raced back to all the times I pretended not to notice her breasts at staff meetings, exercises, inspections. The times I wished I could gently press my lips against her breasts, my lips making love to her nipples, my hands searching her body, my penis probing her vagina, feeling my semen lubricating the texture of her vaginal tract as I slid in and out with each thrust....
"You fucking awake? Put my fucking bra away!" I snapped out of my erotic exhaustion with the rude reminder that this would never happen. She probably has no clue whatsoever. The way she said "fucking bra" struck me as being apropos under the circumstances. I was so hard I could have easily fucked the radio mount.
Nervous energy does that to you.
II.
We finally nodded off into tired, dreamless sleep when the squawk box exploded like a fireworks of noise. It was dark outside and we were already reporting to the staging area for the first search. From the feeling of weightlessness moments before, I felt like I had slept about two hours, but, looking at my watch, I saw that we had slept only thirty-five minutes. Fuck!
Within the hour we were loaded up on breakfast bars and lukewarm instant coffee, and all hopes and desires for sexual satisfaction just did not exist to us. We were in the mode. Time to focus. Time to work. Fuck!
Several hours into the sun and heat, we marked off the clues and reported to base. MREs were on the way. At this point, the promise of a hot meal was better than the wettest orgasm. We didn't care anymore. We were tired and hungry. Fuck.
A half hour and a hot meal later, our salty hormones reared their ugly heads. Instead of wishing for food and a hot shower, we were again wishing for something more. Some of us were wishing to feel our semen ejaculating into someone tight. Some of us were wishing to feel our vaginas throbbing with hard cock thrusting inside and cumming like a garden hose. Dicks and nips were again hard enough to cut glass. Fuck.
We heard that word a lot today. Fuck. Suddenly, someone blurted out, "Why do we always say fuck for everything?" The reply came as quickly: "Because it's what we have to do!" A few surly guffaws rippled momentarily, but they were right.
Strangely, my tired mind visualized the conversation and I could see the question and answer in the air like verbal ejaculations. It could have almost been a verbal simultaneous orgasm. I began to think of the sort of gallows humor and sexual metaphors that are common, almost necessary in our line of work. Good for morale, they say. More like, good for not losing your mind under stressful circumstances. One can see why so many marching cadences and running cadences have strong sexual references.
"I wanna be an Airborne Ranger! I wanna life of sex and danger!"
Nervous energy does that to you.
III.
Hours later, we were finally relieved; another team was coming in. Thank heaven. Fuck!
We demobilized, briefed, napped for awhile and began the bumpy return to civilization and the long drive home in complete silence. We were too tired to fuck, let alone think about it. We were running on so much nervous energy that we were all drained. Anyone who was not driving slept on the road. All we wanted was a hot shower, to have a cold one and to go to bed. Fuck everything else.
For now anyway.
Later that night I finally got home to peel off my BDUs and boots. I was naked for the first time in two days and I felt lighter than air. A hot shower and a normal meal later, I was falling asleep in the chair in front of the idiot box, surfing the channels to see some skin, or at least to see some supple bodies. None appeared. It was too early in the evening, but I was too tired to stay awake. Off to bed. Fuck it all.
I was weightless and asleep the minute I crawled into bed.
I remember having a dream about a large, elderly woman coming to me and thanking me for my hard work on the search. She said she always got turned on by seeing a man in uniform. Somehow, I remember pulling my pants down and masturbating, at which point she started to go down on me. No foreplay, just taking my cock into her wrinkled mouth and sliding her dry mouth up and down my shaft as she massaged my tingling scrotum. I gently cradled her bobbing head in my hands and felt her crispy white hair in my fingertips as she continued to stimulate my penis, her lips lubricating the texture of my skin, her fingers titillating my testicles, until I came. And again.
And again.
In an instant her head became her ass and she was on all fours and I was mounting her from behind, my hands bracing me against her aged hips, the dry texture of her wrinkled skin against my palms, my penis probing its way into her old, dry, cold skin, until at last I could feel warm, wet, tight flesh taking it in whole. It felt young and healthy. I kept pushing and thrusting, feeling my hard cock stimulating her wet, tight, throbbing pussy, wanting nothing more than to feel my hot juicy cum lubricating her vaginal tract so I could slide my cock more easily into her uterus.
It was so disgusting, so filthy, so erotic. I never imagined having sex with an elderly woman, but for the moment all I wanted was to cum in her over and over again, to feel my dick thrusting inside her tight pussy, to feel my fluid ejaculating inside her, to feel her insides well-oiled with cum.
By now I was awake and the dream already fading away. At least it was only a dream. Still had the hard on, though, hard as a rock, testicles tingling, muscles flexing, aching to feel ejaculation flowing.
Within minutes I had the lotion and was hard at work to finish the job.
Nervous energy does that to you.
Originally Published June 2006: Sexy, Strange & Strangely Sexy