I'd just gotten back home from Iraq and I wasn't in the best place mentally. My father had passed away while I'd been gone, and my girlfriend had been brainwashed against me at the little Oregon college she attended. Her last letter called me a "racist corporate murderer for oil" or some bullshit like that. I had no idea what it even meant. And to prove she was totally unlike people like myself, I guess - she started dating some ugly little Yemeni art student at her school.
Well, fuck her and him both I thought. It was just a small portion of a whole plate full of shit on my mind at that moment. I was coming home by train. I had a mild aversion to flying and never did it more than was absolutely necessary. The second I reached the States, I'd left the airport behind and found an Amtrak station. It took a little longer but that gave me time to get my shit together mentally before reaching home and seeing mom and everybody else.
The California Zephyr wasn't quite full this trip and I'd enjoyed relative peace and quiet between Chicago and Omaha. Yeah, there had been an old vet from 'Nam who had sat across from me and traded war stories and shook my hand. But I didn't mind his company. He was a brother, no matter how many decades ago he'd served.
I took a nap as we pulled out of Lincoln, so I'm not sure where she got on. But when I woke up there was a gorgeous blonde sitting beside me. About eighteen, long curly blonde hair the color of cornsilk, big blue eyes. A country girl, in boots, jeans, white western style sleeveless blouse and a ladies Stetson. She had her eyes closed and was gently rocking out to whatever was playing over her iPod. An older couple were sitting across from us.
"Omg, I'm sorry. Did I wake you up??" She asked, too loudly. She pulled one earbud from her right ear and I could clearly hear Jason Aldean. She had the volume cranked to the moon.
"No," I replied, yawning. "You're good. I'm not that tired."
She smiled back at me and popped her earbud back in. "Oh good. My name is Laurel. What's yours??"
"David," I said. "But everybody calls me Bud."
She laughed. "Why does everybody call you Bud, if that isn't your name??"
"Because of an old Budweiser cap I used to wear all the time," I told her. "It was sort of a good luck charm." I shrugged.
She held one slim hand out and we shook. I loved how her hand felt in mine. Soft, warm, but strong too. Surprisingly so.
"Just get back??" She asked.
I nodded and left it at that. I really didn't feel like discussing it with someone that would have no real concept of what I'd been through.
As if picking up on that she dropped it and asked "Going home??"
"Yeah," I said. "California."
"Oh, awesome," she grinned. "Me too. School. What part??"
I told her. She blinked, looked surprised. "Seriously?? That's where I'm going."
She named the college and I nodded. I'd once thought of attending that school myself, before enlisting. Now I wasn't quite sure what to do with myself. But I had time to figure it out. We talked for a while. Just enough to encourage the older couple across from us to start jumping in to our conversation. It annoyed the hell out of me, but I did my best to remain polite.
By Salt Lake City Laurel and I were alone in our section.
"I thought that old couple were your parents," I said.
She laughed, made a face "Eww, no. I have no idea who they were."
"I shouldn't have been so nice then," I grinned. "They just about took over every conversation we tried to have didn't they??"
"Mhmm," she smiled. "I would have said something. I wanted to. But I didn't want you thinking I was a bitch."
"Thought would have never crossed my mind."
"You're cute," she said suddenly. "For a soldier."
It was my turn to laugh. "Um thanks. I think."
"Sorry if that came out wrong," she smiled.
"No offense taken," I said. "I think you're pretty cute too, for a civilian."
She laughed and pushed me playfully.
"You have a girl back home??"
I shook my head. "Not anymore."
I told her what happened.
"What a bitch," she swore, agitated. She wasn't putting on a show either. I could see she was really hot, her eyes fairly smoldered. "If she was here right now I'd snatch her damn hair out of her head."
"I believe you just might," I replied, watching her and smiling.
"My whole family are military," she said. "All the boys anyway. My paw paw, my daddy, my brothers, except for my little brother - he's just sixteen, but hes dying for his turn to come."
"Nice," I said.
We talked a good while, then she leaned over and hugged me, pressing her face into my neck. I felt an immediate warm flush throughout my body and eased my arms around her, hugging her back.
When she pulled away we looked at one another for a long moment. A sudden, wolfish gleam in her smokey blue eyes. "How long has it been??"
"How long has what been??" I asked, genuinely not knowing what she was getting at.
She rolled her eyes and giggled. "You know. How long since you've been with a woman??"
"Oh," I laughed. "Well, um..."
"It's been a while right??" She asked, running a hand through my short hair. I shrugged.
"Do you want to," she asked. "With me, I mean."
"What, here??" I looked at her.
"Well not here in our seats no," she laughed. "There's a bathroom downstairs."
I thought about it. "That's a really small bathroom."
"I thought soldiers loved challenges??"
I laughed. "Yes, ma'am."
She stood up and reached for my hand. I followed her down the stairwell and into the john.
We had just enough room to both squeeze inside. She sat on the toilet and undid my trousers, working my flacid cock out. She stroked it with one hand and looked up at me with those gorgeous blues, pausing to kiss the shaft or head every once in a while, sometimes flicking just the tip of her pink tongue out to tease under the cap. Little electric jolts ran all through me. I got hard in no time flat.
Someone tapped on the door. Laurel and I both said "Busy" at the same time, and the person on the other side - sounded like an old woman - went "Oh.. excuse me!" We laughed.
With my cock now hard, Laurel began giving me head. I leaned back slightly, sighing. Words don't exist to describe how good it felt. She really knew what she was doing. I could feel her tongue sliding along my shaft and her throat opening up to allow me deep inside, where she'd hold me for a moment... two, before flexing her muscles and pushing me back out again.
Before I could cum, she stopped and stood up, undoing her belt and jeans and working them down to her calves along with the panties she wore. Turning her back to me and bracing against the wall, she wiggled her perky little butt and said "come and get it soldier boy."
She didn't have to ask twice.
I suppose as loud as she moaned and as hard as I was thrusting into her, just about everybody on the first level of that car heard us. I was beyond caring. I lost myself in the steady rhythm of pumping my cock in and out of her tight, wet pussy, my hands gripping her slender hips. When I finally came it was explosive, a real gusher. I filled her with my cum and then sagged slightly, as she straightened up to lean against me, her hair in my lowered face.
"That was fun," she giggled.
We cleaned up and went back to our seats upstairs. About an hour later we did it again. And again the next morning.
By the time we got to our stop in California we had exchanged phone numbers and e-mail. I really didn't expect her to keep in touch, but she did. And we started dating. Within a month she was my girlfriend. And today, several years on she's the mother of my first child, my son Little Bud (David Jr).
As for my former girlfriend. Well, her Yemeni boyfriend treated her like crap (imagine that, an Arab guy that doesn't respect women) and left her high and dry. She tried to apologize to me. I wouldn't even talk to her. So she began over eating to deal with her emotions. I saw her a few days ago. She needs the word "Goodyear" printed on her ass.
My sexy little Nebraska farm girl is just as pretty as ever, and she hasn't left my side since we first met. Adjusting to life at home hasn't been easy, even now it's still a struggle. But Laurel makes it easier. Meeting her made all that other shit worth it.