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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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It's Not Her Fault
by Maplevalley8 (address withheld)

***

A military husband pawns off his wife on an 
acquaintance at a military dance so he can brown nose 
his superiors. But alcohol, dancing and lust is an 
explosive combination. The friend feels no guilt for 
what is about to happen to this young wife. But after 
all, its not his fault; it's the husband that threw her 
to the wolves. (MF, wife, military, cheat, alcohol)
 
***

This story is true. It happened to me fifteen years 
ago. I'm retired military - Army - 18.5 years. And yes, 
early outs are possible when you have relatives in high 
places. Sperling is not her real last name. I changed 
it to protect us both. M****, you know her last name. 
Readers, I still maintain contact with Susan's family, 
but now only through her mother. You'll understand when 
part 3 is written. This is one of those stories that is 
so odd you just know it has to be true. 

 ***

It was about four in the afternoon when the team landed 
in Osan Air Base, South Korea. If all goes as planned, 
the team will be taken by truck to Seoul. We will stay 
in Seoul a couple of days, and depending on how things 
develop, either the following day or the day after, we 
will travel north under the cover of darkness. 

After a brief stop at Camp Red Cloud, we will travel on 
to Camp Casey. About three in the morning we will leave 
Casey and not be heard from again until the mission is 
accomplished. And for this particular mission it could 
be anywhere from 21 to 35 days. If all goes well, we 
will return to Seoul, from there on to Tokyo, then 
Hickam Air Force Base, Oahu, Hawaii. 

I love the down time in Hawaii; it's such a romantic 
place. The weather is always fantastic, the people are 
so laid back, and with four key military bases there 
(Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines), it's easy to find a 
military wife willing to share her charms. 

Military wives are not known for their chastity – and 
honestly, that probably includes mine too. Deployment 
is difficult for some wives, but for others it's just a 
free time to get some strange. Anyway, from Hawaii it's 
back to the mainland to get between momma's or 
somebody's legs – or both. 

There is little fanfare when the C-130 touches down at 
Osan. What surprises me is that I am greeted by Lt. 
Sterling. I met Sterling and his wife, Susan, at Fort 
Bragg a couple of years earlier. Sterling is about my 
size – 6'1', 185, red hair, though not so red as to be 
called, "carrot top." 

Sterling was the typical hard-nosed, gung-ho Ranger – 
and proud of it. Unfortunately his hard-driving 
attitude included his wife. Our military paths 
separated after Bragg, which was probably good. 

All my life I've struggled in my attempts to maintain 
the status quo – to be 'one of the boys' and play by 
the rules. For as far back as I can remember I've 
always been one to color outside the lines, to test the 
limit of things, to push everyone's buttons. I've 
always been one to live on the edge. It's been risky, 
but exciting. Rules just drive me crazy. This kind of 
personality has served me well in my area of the 
military. 

Our team hadn't been near a barbershop in nearly a 
month – and we hadn't shaved in over a week. It's hard 
to know what Sterling really thought of the group, but 
because of his position, he knew who and what we were. 
I learned later that he was the one that told his wife 
my team was coming to Korea on a mission.

I normally wouldn't have given Sterling much thought 
but seeing him again brought to memory our initial 
meeting. It was at a dance at Bragg. And it wasn't him 
that I particularly remembered, but his wife, Susan. 

Susan was a 5' 7'' beauty that made you glad you were a 
man. Sterling had been too busy for her at the dance. 
He needed to "network" with the 'good-ole-boy-club', at 
least that's my conclusion, so he asked if I would see 
that Susan's dance card was filled. Oh, indeed I would. 
There were some other areas on her that I wouldn't mind 
filling too. Looking back I'm struck by the irony of 
the whole occasion. He's working the crowd and kissing 
brass ass, and I'm dancing with his wife trying to get 
my lips on her ass, literally. 

We had a wonderful time but what occurred between Susan 
and I during the evening was a combination of chemistry 
and lust and alcohol. Things are bound to happen after 
three hours of drinking and rubbing against each other. 
After a while there was no pretense, no denying my 
erection and no denying her grinding into it. Susan 
stole my heart and I tried every way possible to make 
sure she knew it. An opportunity to make love with a 
woman like her doesn't come along very often. 

Both of us had been hitting the bar pretty good, so 
when the three of us, arm in arm, posed for pictures 
later in the evening, she took my hand and slid it down 
on her ass. Now I had my hands all over her ass all 
evening, but clearly she was hurt and angry at how she 
had been treated, so she pushed my hand down, not on 
her upper cheek, but down low where I could cup her 
ass. It was hot and I ended up being branded, not on 
the hand, but on the heart. 

Over the years I've learned some things about women 
that have served me well, but none are as important as 
this: A woman will take a lot of things from a man, but 
she will not be taken for granted! When Susan pushed my 
hand down on her ass while her husband was standing 
there with us, I knew that he hadn't learned that yet, 
and from all indications, he never would. As the three 
of us stood there posing, he kept smiling, I kept 
rubbing, and she kept asking for more pictures to be 
taken. 

I didn't know whether she had been unfaithful to him 
yet, but by the way he treated her, I knew it was just 
a matter of time. She was going to give someone some 
pussy, and I intended that someone to be me.

I wanted more than life itself to slip my arms around 
her and tell her how absolutely lovely she was – to 
slowly kiss and lick every square inch of her body, but 
it never happened. Schedules and transfers pulled us 
apart. We exchanged phone numbers, wrote love letters 
and tried to stay in contact as best as we could, but 
that was too dangerous and over time the calls finally 
ended. But not the way I felt about her. When all this 
happened they had only been married for two years. Now, 
another two years has passed.

All this ran through my mind in a split second. But 
imagine my surprise when he told me Susan was visiting 
him in Korea and that he had made arrangements for me 
to bunk at their apartment that night so we could all 
get acquainted again. I was numb – well not totally 
numb – the little drum major in my pants broke out with 
John Philip Sousa's "Stars and Strips Forever!" 

I told him it wasn't necessary, that I would stay with 
the guys, but he insisted I stay with them – he said 
Susan wouldn't have it any other way. My immediate 
reaction was to wonder why he had decided to share 
highly sensitive information. I know it wasn't the best 
decision on my part, but the only thing that saved his 
nuts from the grinder was I desperately wanted to see 
his wife again. And a royal ass chewing would not help 
set the mood.

It was not completely unusual for military wives to 
visit their husbands for a week or two in places like 
Korea or the Philippines, but I couldn't understand why 
he didn't want to be alone with her? How long had she 
been here? Why was she here? How soon would she return 
to the U.S.? 

I picked up my bag and we began to work our way through 
the check in / check out process. And on a military 
base, that doesn't take long. Rank truly does have its 
privileges. Then, it was out to the parking lot. 

There was a figure sitting in the front passenger seat 
of the jeep. I strained my eyes hoping that it was 
Susan - it was. As I approached she was smiling. I 
couldn't help but return the smile. God help me, I felt 
like a schoolboy again. Continuing to smile, I was 
careful not to appear too enthusiastic – even though I 
was shouting on the inside. 

"Hello, Captain, " she said with a big broad smile. 

Her words sounded like they were dripping with honey. 
They probably weren't, but that's the way I heard them. 
But it was her eyes; they were pulling me to her, in 
her. It's the feeling you get when making love and your 
lover makes eye contact with you while slowly pulling 
you up between her legs, yet never breaking eye 
contact. You are thrilled to be between her legs, but 
her eyes are pulling you into her heart and it's so 
wonderful you just want to cry. 

I softly replied, "Susan, I'll never ever want to be 
anything more than just Rick to you."

Chuck grabbed my duffle, walked to the rear of the jeep 
and proceeded to load it. The moment was awkward and 
Susan sensed it, so she broke the ice by putting her 
arms around my neck and giving me a big hug. Oh, to 
have those breasts pressed against me again. 

"It's so good to see you again. How have you been? 
We've got a lot to catch up on," she said. 

Chuck was still at the back of the jeep, so I turned us 
where my back was toward him, let my hand slide down 
her back and onto her ass, then I lovingly rubbed and 
patted it several times. 

"It's good to see you again too Susan...and yes, we do 
have a lot to catch up on." 

Before we broke the embrace, she whispered in my ear, 
"You remember." I smiled and nodded.

Chuck opened the door on the driver's side, slid in and 
said, "Honey, you ride in the back, I want to talk to 
Rick about some things." I protested saying Susan 
should ride up front with him, but she was already 
getting into the back. He continued, "She doesn't 
mind... it's not all that far anyway." For me that 
wasn't the issue, but rather than argue and sound like 
a couple of quarreling children, I let it pass. 

That single insensitive act really pissed me off. It 
appeared that Sterling hadn't changed. He was a prick 
two years ago, and he was still a prick. I determined 
right then that if I had a chance to fuck Susan, I 
wouldn't hesitate. Sometimes you want to show a guy 
some respect, but this was not going to be one of those 
times, and he was not going to be one of those guys. I 
intended to give her such royal fucking that the next 
time she saw him she would throw rocks at him. 

As it turned out, Susan took off her shoe and from the 
back seat ran her foot up and down my right hip and 
leg. So while we all talked, I dropped my right hand 
down between the seat and the door and all the way to 
Seoul I rubbed her foot and leg. 

It had been ten days since I had been with a woman. By 
the time we arrived in Seoul I was as hard as I've ever 
been. I was hoping she had a wide-on that was just as 
bad. 

The last thing I remember Sterling saying as he turned 
the jeep toward Seoul was, "I know a club where we can 
get a few drinks and catch up on everything." So off we 
went as the sun was setting… 

END

Author's note: This is a true story and is the first of 
three parts. In part two Susan Sperling is impregnated, 
and not by her husband. In part three the mother of 
Susan Sperling gets involved. This happened fifteen 
years ago but I remember it as if it were yesterday. 
Liz, I love you and you already knew this. Lynn, you 
know it too. 

I have made every attempt to be careful with my grammar 
and punctuation. If I have failed, sorry. Nothing 
brings me any greater distress than to wade through 
some of the stories that are submitted. Use the fuckin' 
spell checker dick heads; that's what it's for! 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 34