That time the trophy girl [F] picked me [M] up 2.

OK, I have to admit I am not real proud of this portion of my early life, but it happened. Men thought a lot different back then than they do in today’s world, at least, we pretend to anyway. Let’s just say that wives were supposed to be good girls and stay at home with their legs together, we men, being men? If something happened, it was no big deal.

I was in my 20’s and knew.. well, real close to nothing.

+++

I was doing pretty good, had a gas station job, girl friend named Sherry, she was the trophy girl at my big drag race that I won. (They would not let me run in stock class any more after that, instead put me in D/Modified sports class and I couldn’t catch those guys)

Bunch of damned cheaters in that class, so I quit going.

Anyway, I dropped out of Junior college, the idea was to work more and save up some cash, go to regular college, just one semester left for my Associate’s degree in business. Get the cash ready, then finish the last semester, off to regular college, all set. Things were hot and heavy with Sherry, it was like every day, and about everywhere that we could find any privacy and a few times not so private.

Then that notice.. drafted! Hell, I wasn’t paying any attention to that, I had heard of some war somewhere but had no idea at all what it was about, and being in college, it didn’t affect me. But NOT in college.. it did.

Like I said, I was young and knew.. real close to nothing.

But I was clever, so I asked Sherry to marry me, figuring that would do it. She said yes, especially after I explained she would also get a regular government check. We went downtown to the judge, and got hitched. I went down to the draft board, told them I was married, thinking that would do it.

It didn’t. Crap. So, tears, goodbyes, and off to boot camp, my other option was Canada and I didn’t want to do that.

Someone discovered that I used to work on the tractors on our ranch, so they put me in the motor pool. Now, I COULD talk here about charging the hill, bayonet ready, taking on the enemy and all of that, but it was mostly fixing Jeeps and stuff like that. Leave was fun, the little women all knew the universal sign language to let us know they were available for some precious American dollars. (Form a circle with your thumb and index finger, stick the other index finger through the hole, kind of obvious) Lots of time I watched them on stage, near as I could tell, ALL of them could do the full splits.

I liked the one that said her name was Soshi, at least that is what it sounded like.

Yeah, I know, wife back home but she was there and I was here.

Nobody was shooting at me.

Until they were. I was in the latrine when one came in from God knows where, probably at least a mile away, maybe more, put a hole in me. Then I was running, little spurts in the dirt all around, they had us pretty well dialed in from a long ways away. The 2nd one got me, I got underneath one of the Jeeps and once it was over I was on my way home, one of the lucky ones, alive. The whole thing lasted maybe two minutes, and none of us even saw anyone to shoot back at although a few of the guys were firing at the last. You will think you are going to die when you get a hole in a lung, at least I sure did for awhile. But, we did have damn good medics.

In a few hours, our entire camp was gone, moved somewhere else. I got to ride in a helicopter.

+++

The first thing I noticed was Sherry had put on maybe 15 pounds, the slim and muscular thing I left behind became a bit.. soft? The other thing I noticed is someone knocked on the door, guy named Doug I barely knew, he acted nervous and said he came by to see how I was doing. Strange, but oh well. Had a beer, we visited, Sherry stayed in the bedroom, then he left. Same thing happened a day or so later, some guy I didn’t know at all. OK, I might be slow but not that slow, I asked some pointed questions which led to a fight which led to me leaving.

It seems that Sherry had been allowing some of the guys that managed to avoid the draft to sample the wares while I was over defending our Nation, or whatever the fuck that was. Of course, I had sampled some of the little women myself, but that was different, at least back then it was. But Sherry being Sherry, she popped by in a few days, one thing led to another and she loved me and only me and nothing like that would EVER happen again, so all solved.

+++

Then the party.. at.. Doug’s house. Yeah, THAT Doug. But, free booze, all forgiven, a party, why not? I was still gimped up some from the two holes, (still am in fact) but other than that OK. The party was fine, good time, I ended up crashed in a bean bag chair in their living room.

Something woke me up, I realized it was dark but whatever this was, was female and nude and very active.

Hey, did you ever wake up fucking somebody with no idea at all who it is? Trust me, that is weird. But, boy did we. I do remember the hair down there was coarse, boobs were bigger and way softer than any I had felt up lately, this sure as hell was NOT Sherry.

Then she stood up. It was Doug’s wife.

“That will teach the son of a bitch.” She said, reaching down to give my rather slimy dick a couple of tugs. Then she left.

It hit me that this might not be good, Doug was fairly physical and I still had that left arm that didn’t work well, so I got the hell out of there. I managed to drive the 6 or7 miles home and missed everything, didn’t even see any cops, but then it was around 4 in the morning so they were all in bed, most likely.

I got home, woke Sherry up, asked her how in the hell did she get home? I mean, I was asleep, the car had been still outside at Doug’s, she sure as hell didn’t walk.

“Doug drove me home.” She said.

“Doug?” I probably sounded pissed,

“Yes, and Bobby.” Bobby was another guy Sherry had “sampled” while I was off defending our nation.

I went into the bedroom looked. Clearly someone had been there.

Needless to say, that was the end of marriage number one.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/dl3i3j/that_time_the_trophy_girl_f_picked_me_m_up_2

1 comment

  1. Isn’t it amazing how things that bothered us when we were younger, that we now realize were double standards, can turn around and end up turning us on when we are older?

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