"I can't fuckin' think when she's around me," I bellowed out, growing more and more frustrated by the second. "My dick swelled up out there. How do you think I'll make it through six weeks of having to look at her every fucking day?"
"Because you need to remember that a pussy isn't worth throwing everything down the drain. You're about to pick up Staff Sergeant in six very short fuckin' years. That the oath you took when you swore to protect your country and the promise to uphold the morals and values of the Marine Corps means more than some chick who gets your dick excited." Thick, angry and over worked veins bulged from his neck as he spoke, his eyes filled with rage.
I knew he was right, but it was my brain that was aware of everything I stood to lose. My cock didn't seem to care because, from the second that our eyes locked on one another in that formation, it jolted to attention and throbbed at the need to get inside of someone.
And that someone was none other than Pfc. Cassie Bennett.
"I know all of that, man--"
"Then shut this shit down," Jensen briskly interrupted. He moved back to his chair, seemingly satisfied with the fact that I seemed to have everything back in perspective. "You need to set some ground rules for these students. Limit these chance encounters."
"I know. As soon as we get back out there, I'm laying everything out. This shit isn't happening again."
"Good, man." He stood. "Your career means more than some chick who knows nothing about the Corps and everything it's done for you."
I nodded, signaling to Jensen that he could leave. He shut the door behind him, leaving me to my contradictory thoughts. I knew that my career was worth everything, but for some strange reason, that fucking Pfc. had gotten to me, and it didn't look as if it would be easy to remove her from my mind.
I was fucked.
Standing before the class, I let Jensen do the roll call while I stood in the back, stealing glances at Bennett every now and then.
The sun was barreling down on us as we stood outside the schoolhouse building, roasting us where we stood, but that wasn't what had me sweating.
Her...standing there...images of her body up against mine...her hardened nipples begging me to rip her shirt off and devour them...
It had me sweating like I’d just run three miles uphill on the mountainous terrain that surrounded us.
I hated it.
I hated everything about the feeling.
No chick had ever gotten me to lose my bearings with just the sight of them. I wasn't sure what it was about this one, but I was finding it hard to reign myself in.
After roll call, I walked the students into class, the air conditioned building, helping me feel a bit more composed. This building was my safe place; where I was in control.
"First things first," I said, walking through the rows of students. "Any bars or clubs, on base or off, are off-limits to all students in Alpha Company. Even if you are of age, bars are now restricted." I stole a quick glance in her direction, and she swallowed, but unless you knew why the swallow came at that moment, it wouldn’t seem like anything out of the ordinary.
"While you are students, your number one priority is making sure that you pass this school and get assigned to a unit. Bars and clubs are distractions, and as your instructor, I am here to keep you focused." I made a quick left, avoiding her seat and making my way back up to the front of the room. I noticed her friend, Ruiz, smirking in her direction. This might be harder than I thought.
"Throughout the week, barracks checks will take place at twenty hundred, meaning you don't have free reign to be out and about at all hours of the night. On weekends, twenty-two hundred. Do we understand?" Jensen quipped.
"Yes, Sergeant," the class yelled in unison.
Eight in the evening seemed reasonable for a school night while ten in the evening on weekends was more than enough. It was the best way to keep these students tied to their barracks where we wouldn't have to run into them.
"We are not here to babysit you. We are here to teach you. If you can't follow orders, your time here will be a living hell. And I will personally make sure of it," Jensen threw in for good measure.
Newsome stood in his corner, surveying the room but not saying anything. He was never much of a talker, so having him and his intimidating presence was all that was really needed.
"Open your binders and take out your duty station preference sheet," I commanded, walking up and down the rows again. "You will select three preferences, but keep in mind that your preference doesn't mean a thing to the Corps, so you will be placed where you are needed. Some of you will get the duty station of your dreams, and some of you will end up in your worst nightmare. I don't give a shit where you end up because it isn't my job to care, so when those assignments come out, do not come crying to me or any other instructor. It won't be our doing where you end up, and we will have no power to change it."
The class got to work on their sheets, marking shit that more than likely wouldn't matter to Headquarters, but they had to do it anyway. Jensen, Newsome, and I strolled up and down the rows, checking on selections and answering any questions that the students had.
"Why can't I select Germany, Sergeant?" some twerp asked, instantly annoying me.
"Because this is the Marine Corps, not the Army. We are amphibious by nature, so most of your duty choices are going to be on the coasts," I lowly responded with irritating malice.
Most of the students were selecting places like Hawaii and overseas, with hopes of living a carefree life. Little did they know that the Hawaii duty station was slim, but I wasn't about to fill them in on reality. They would quickly learn for themselves.
Strolling the classroom, I found myself standing over Bennett and looking down at her paper. She selected West Coast, Hawaii, and the East Coast as her preferences. Her pen stopped moving as she noticed my presence, but she didn't look up to me. I stood there, hoping that she would look up. When she finally did, a nervous grin was spread across her face.
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