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The Darker Side of Combat!	By : Krystal_Frame Category: -Misc TV Shows > General Views: 2821 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Combat! I make no money off of this story.

Chapter List
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Bette, the blonde, curvey nurse that had been sent into the lower cabin of the yacht to tend to him, sent the second girl away after a time. Hanley had just left the small lavatory and was still dripping wet from the shower, and naked but for the thin pair of shorts they had provided for him. He had been wounded before arriving on the yacht and the wound hadn't been tended.
Bette drew the curtains on the rows of windows in the lower cabin, lit a lantern and guided Hanley to sit. She worked quietly behind him, occasionally pressing so close that he could feel her breasts on his back, covered by the brown cotton blouse she wore. She covered the bullet wound in his shoulder with gauze and taped it down, aware of the exhaustion of her patient. Then she moved to the floor, rested on her knees and reached into the gap in the boxers.
Hanley thrust his hands out and stopped her, gasping softly at the reaction his body had to the light touch from her fingers. "What are you doing?"
"You were injured here? Yes?"
Hanley easily remembered the kick to the nuts that he'd taken out on the road. He could still taste the vomit in the back of his throat that had come up shortly after.
"It's fine now. Really. I don't need-" He was cut off by Bette's hands once more reaching. This time she pulled back the waistband of the boxers and pulled his length out without hesitation.
Hanley grabbed her wrist with one of his hands and tucked himself back in with the other. "Stop. It's fine."
He released Bette's hand and she settled back, her face blank. Her hazel eyes were bright, gleaming with something he couldn't quite understand. Then she thrust up and forward and kissed him. Their faces came together faster than was comfortable, and Hanley tried to draw away from the kiss, but he failed. Bette latched her fingers behind his head, keeping him there. She tried to press her tongue into his mouth but he stopped her with a hand on her chin. He couldn't unlatch her fingers because of the wound on his shoulder, but she gave up after a minute and sat back again.
"What are you doing?" Hanley asked her, out of breath. His body had responded to her attentions, despite his mind disagreeing with them, and he knew he was tenting ever so slightly.
"I want you." She said, her voice soft, and lightly teased with a German accent.
"I'm a prisoner. Your brother intends to kill me." He shook his head. "It doesn't make any sense, Bette."
"Do you like sex?" She asked.
"Wha-." He blushed, looking away from her. She reached out to his boxers again, pushed her hand into the gap, and closed her fingers around his length. When he tried to stop her she squeezed hard enough that he winced, and leaned back away from the sudden pain. Her grip eased and her fingers stroked him, awakening long dormant desires in an instant.
"Do you like sex?" She asked again.
"Yes. I do, but this isn't the time or place." He said to her, easing a hand toward the part of his body on which she was most focused. Her thumb had moved up to his tip and was circling him there, sending an electric shock down his legs that felt horrible and wonderful at the same time.
"I like it, too." Bette said. "And I want you. Why resist?"
Hanley did his best to breathe through the changes in his body, focusing on her eyes and not the lump in his boxers created by his growing erection and the movement of her hand. "What if Dieter comes in. Finds us...like this?"
"I've locked the door. Covered the windows. He won't discover us." Bette said, shifting closer to him and forcing his legs apart. Her fingers curled around him and she began stroking him again, keeping all of her actions hidden under the shelter of the boxers. She removed her hand, pulled the waist band back and down and brought him out into the open once more, putting both hands to the task of bringing him to life.
"Wait a minute. Wait, wait..." Hanley said, resting his hand lightly over hers. "I have to..um.." He glanced back toward the lavatory, then looked down at the swelling head just over the waist band of his boxers.
Bette flushed then stood and helped Hanley to his feet. He stumbled into the room, turned on the flow of water in the sink and the shower and did everything he could think of to make his erection go back down. Desire was one thing, but propriety and timliness and the sheer bizarre nature of the circumstances were overwhelming. He was confused. And the fact that his body wouldn't listen to him, and his excuse was fast turning into a waste of time, made it all the more confusing.
He splashed water on his face, turned off the shower and the sink, tucked his half-hard length back into the boxers and returned to the room. Bette had stripped down to a silken white slip. He could see the straps of her bra underneath. She had stripped off her stockings as well. She'd turned the lamps down in the room and sat on the corner of the bed, waiting for him.
"Bette, I-" She stood and came to him and pressed against him. Her hands rose to bring his face down closer to hers and she kissed his lips, then his chest, working her way to his waistband. Her fingers slid under the boxers and drew them off of his frame and he thought, why not? His life had been upended ever since Doc's wedding. He was in pain and staring death in the face for the umpteenth time and for once the universe had provided him with an escape.
Why not?
He stood still as Bette's hands explored his legs and narrow hips. She returned to his length, kissing the swelling skin. She guided him, her hands on his hips, to the bed, pulling him down until he was sitting. She pushed his shoulders back onto the bed, eased his legs apart, then extended her tongue. He gasped and swallowed lungfuls of air as she covered his length with saliva, then began stroking him in earnest. When the saliva began to dry, her hand eased away and she fed his length into her mouth, closing her lips around him.
He'd experienced it only once before. The madam of a French "ladies parlour" had taken a liking to him. He'd refused to lay with her, but she had promised him a new pleasure that was just as enjoyable. She'd seemed to get as much enjoyment out of it as he had, and had thrown him a rose from her balcony window as he was leaving. Bette wasn't quiet as eager, or experienced, but her mouth was warm, her lips plump and tight around him, and it felt too good for him to quibble over differences.
When she stood he was fully and painfully hard. She reached under her slip and slid her panties to the floor then climbed onto the bed and straddled him. Her fingers found him, and guided his tip towards her entrance. She eased onto him a few centimeters then pulled away, moaning with her eyes closed. She didn't seem to want or need his help so he kept his hands on the bed, watching her. She stroked herself under the cover of her slip, then once more lined him up with her hole. She eased down until half of his length was inside, then raised her hips and began a soft, easy rhythm.
She was tight and hot inside, and incredibly wet. She'd barely stimulated herself and yet she was sopping wet for him. Her hands came free of her slip and she squeezed her ample breasts through the cloth of the slip and her bra. She moaned softly, closing her eyes and dwelling in a world of her own as she rode him, easing up and down over his shaft. His hand quested out and he touched the tip of her knee, then slid his fingers up to her thigh. He moved his other hand, lifting the hem of the slip and watching as the hair covering her sex parted. He watched the top half of his length disappear into her, and gasped at the sudden turn-on it was.
His hips began to rise to meet her, sinking just a little more of himself into her with each thrust. Her eyes came open and he watched her reach behind her head, free her hair from the constricting bun, and shake it loose. Thin, blonde strands fell like feathers to her shoulders, then swept in front of her face, partially shielding her eyes.
Hanley put his good arm underneath him and pushed upright. He collected her weight with one hand behind her buttox and moved the both of them backward on the bed until his back was supported by the cabin wall. He slipped out of her briefly, but she reached down and put him back inside. He collected the hem of the slip and while she continued to slowly ride him, Hanley lifted the slip.
Bette's arms rose, letting him remove the article. His hands slid down her sides, over the triangle of flesh above her sex, before he fed his thumb between her folds and found her clit. Her hand instantly closed around his wrist. She stiffened, waiting for him to ease away. He rested his hands on her thighs and Bette fed her fingers into his, rocking back and forth. After a moment she began thrusting again. Hanley freed his hands and explored her breasts, squeezing them through the confines of the bra. She slowed her thrusts and guided his hands to the catch at the back, and after some fiddling, Hanley got it open.
He pulled the bra down and free of her arms then cupped her breasts in his hands, and moved his thumbs to her nipples, pressing into the pillowy depths and flicking the nubs until they began to harden and grow. Bette increased her thrusts and Hanley guided her hips with his hands. Bette leaned back away from him, hands resting on the blankets, working herself against him faster. Hanley felt his climax building, entirely too fast. He tried to squeeze her thighs to get her to slow down, but she continued onward, stroking herself. The move made her walls all the tighter around him and Hanley groaned, fed one hand between her sex and her leg and stopped her while he pulled himself free with the other.
He exploded on his own belly, sliding a finger between her folds and up into her cavity as his hips rocked. He felt her clamp down over him, felt her hips shudder, then a flood of viscous fluid that coated his hand. She opened her eyes and looked down at the puddles of semen on his chest. Her hand rested on his length and stroked against him easily, causing his breath to catch in his chest and sending pain and pleasure up his spine.
He stopped her, put his arms around her, and rolled her onto the bed. He captured the back of her head in his elbow and pressed his lips into hers. This time his lips parted and he explored the depths of her mouth, toying with her breasts with his other hand. He traveled downward, carving out the curve of her side and hip, sliding under the back of her leg and easing his hand back into the moist recesses of her womanhood. He brushed his knuckles over the ridges and folds, slick with her juices, then eased two fingers into her. She moaned into his lips but didn't fight the penetration.
He slid his fingers in and out, slowly, brushing her clit with his thumb when it came into reach. While he teased her he was coming back to life, responding to her moans, gasps, and the arch of her back. When he was ready he got up on his knees, parted her legs, and guided himself into her. He went as deep as he had gone before, sliding back and forth, before introducing more of his length. Her eyes widened when she felt him going deeper, her hips rising to meet him. She gasped in pain and pleasure when he hilted inside her.
Her head came up and she spread her own lower lips, looking down at the sight of their hips resting flesh to flesh. Hanley tried to pull back but she stopped him with the tips of her fingers and a whispered word, "Stay." Her knees drew up, resting impossibly near her shoulders. She stroked herself gently and drew Hanley to her lips, demanding attention from him while she grew comfortable with his size.
Gradually he began to move, easing all of his length inside her, and pulling back until he was rocking gently into her tip to hips. His gentle strokes didn't last long. He began to thrust in earnest and she did nothing to discourage him. She held her legs open for him, moaning and gasping for breath. When he began to near his climax again she seemed to sense it. She wrapped her legs around him, drawing him into her and not letting him pull out. Hanley answered her unspoken request, and despite knowing the foolishness of it, he released inside her, slamming his hips into her with each spurt.
She drew him down once more, claiming his lips, her hips shifting in delight at the fullness in her sex. When Hanley pulled away she rose, wetted a cloth in the lavatory, then cleaned their lovemaking from his skin. She made him lay down on the bed, checked his wounds, covered him with a blanket, then dressed and exited the cabin.
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The Darker Side of Combat!