Author’s Note: Last year I wrote a Memorial Day story, and this year I’m honoring my American roots with a Veterans Day story. It’s long and the sex doesn’t start for a while, but when it does, it lasts a while. Many thanks to the extremely helpful editor for correcting my grammar and punctuation. Any errors in research are my sole responsibility.
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“When the going gets tough, the tough get going.” Sarah’s dad liked to say this in the back of the auto shop when the work was piling up.
Sarah always thought this quote meant that when things get tough, the strong people of the world work hard to find solutions. Of course, as Sarah slammed the metal door on her locker, she realized that this cliché could be interpreted another way. A “tough start” could mean that strong people leave when things get tough.
As Sara turned the key and locked her locker, she realized that for the first time in her life, she was leaning towards reading to get rid of her hard times. Sara guessed she had been through hard times before, even harder than most people.
When Sarah was three, her mother left the family, and she was left to be raised by her father alone. What this really means is that she grew up in a small-town car shop in California, raised by her father and surrounded by a weird mechanic uncle whom her father occasionally hired. Also, Sarah knew from childhood that she was gay and must have faced the same adversity.
She kept at it. Even before Sarah was a teenager, she was making the most of her surroundings. She was as talented a machinist as anyone else employed by her father, and soon he began delegating work to her when the work was overcrowded. Throughout the process, she found great comfort in the fact that an engine is a simple collection of moving parts that can be diagnosed, repaired, and restored. Trying to remember formulas, dates, and times gave Sarah a strength and confidence in her hands that she had never found at school. If she had grown up surrounded by boys and girls who talked dirty and talked about sports, Sarah would have fit in. At nineteen, Sarah could talk about football or how to please a woman as well as any other grease monkey. Sarah also began to love the sensual camaraderie that existed in this place.
Then her world came crashing down. Sarah’s father died suddenly of a heart attack. Still reeling from her father’s death, Sarah discovered that the company was in dire straits. She tried to continue what her father had started; she was as capable as anyone else at running a garage, but the store was deeply in debt. Sarah soon discovered that a nineteen-year-old fresh out of high school was at the top of any bank’s priority customer list. All her attempts to obtain the necessary funds failed, and in her early teens, Sarah found herself parentless, unemployed, and with few prospects.
Sarah was persistent again. Last night, Sarah was drinking with the other machinists employed by her father, and one of them mentioned that the Army was always looking for talented machinists, especially in wartime. A few months later, Sarah found herself in a recruiting office. It’s not easy. On top of the usual stresses and pressures of active duty life, the Army’s “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy meant that Sarah had to keep her sexual orientation a closely guarded secret. This meant that anyone Sarah might meet would either have to flirt for a little while or keep it private and risk being fired if she was found out.
She completed basic training and professional training with ease. Sarah had always been tall and had gained some weight, but the hardships and challenges of military life soon put her in the best shape of her life. Sarah finds physical challenges exciting and enjoys facing and overcoming them. She ran every day, first one mile, then two miles, and now five miles almost every day. By the end of her first deployment, Sarah did not have an ounce of excess fat on her body, her arms were toned and strong, and her legs were long, lean, and strong. When she works out really hard, she even has a six-pack.
Most importantly, Sarah finds working on the Hummer to be just as easy as working on a civilian car, developing the same sense of camaraderie with the men and women in her unit as she did in the shop—although she has to subtly draw attention more than a few to make progress—and even supports the higher goals of her work. She is serving her country and defending her beloved land. Indeed, she is well aware of the hypocrisy of defending the freedoms that in some cases she has been denied, but Sarah remains committed to it. During her first three years, Sarah receives several promotions and recognitions for her superhuman work ethic.
Then, during her first extended break in years, something great happens. Sarah meets Audrey, a beautiful, slender brunette. Audrey and Sarah don’t have much time together before Sarah goes overseas again, but they figure everything out. They spend an intense, exciting, wonderful few months together. Eventually, they say “I love you” and make plans to move in together soon. All Sarah needed was her boyfriend back home when Audrey’s next deployment came, and they were a perfect match in every sense of the word.
This puts new pressure on Sarah’s next deployment. She now had something to hide, and Sarah missed home a lot during the long hot days and lonely cold nights. She and Audrey put an effort into making it work and within two years it was successful. Things looked better. Not only was the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy repealed, but Sarah’s six-year tour of duty was coming to an end. Only one deployment stood in the way of her and her girlfriend’s civilian lives. Sarah had just returned to the United States from a two-week vacation a week earlier. This would be the last time she and Audrey would be together before they were together forever. Sarah went home thinking they would spend the first week in bed as usual and then spend the next week planning the rest of their lives. Sarah even considered buying a ring and proposing and traveling to the nearest state where the two could get married.
Sarah smiled as she walked out of the storage room. She went home thinking about wedding bells. However, when she returned home, she found her life falling apart again.
Audrey told Sarah in no uncertain terms that she was not interested in waiting another year to have a real relationship with someone. Sarah tried to explain her situation, tried to convince Audrey that she loved her and that she would come back to live their life soon, but Audrey refused. She had made up her mind. To make matters even worse, Audrey told her that there was someone else out there. Sarah heard nothing else. Feeling stunned, she left Audrey’s house, checked into the only motel she could afford, and spent the last few days moving her few belongings from Audrey’s house into storage.
As Sarah walked the streets of the oppressed area where the warehouse was located, she shook her head at her situation. Once again she had no place to go. The city was where Audrey lived, and even then, Sarah was only just getting to know the community she and Audrey lived in. Sarah didn’t recognize any of the street names in the blue-collar area. Sarah feels exactly the same as she did when her father died, except this time she’s twenty, has no future, and no home. There were still four days until redeployment.
As Sarah leisurely walked across the street toward the motel, she realized she needed a drink more than ever.
After walking a few blocks, Sarah found what she was looking for. Nothing to look at. A dirty little two-story brick house with smokey windows and heavy doors. It didn’t look like anything special, but then again, Sarah wasn’t looking for anything special. The sign above the front door said “O’Flaherty’s Pub” and a small neon sign indicated that they had cold beer. That was enough for Sarah. If she was going to spend the last four miserable days alone, she might as well get drunk.
Opening the door, Sara didn’t get the impression of the interior of the hotel as good as the exterior. At least the bar was about ten feet long with dark wood, with a variety of bottles in front of it. The rest of the place didn’t do as well, Sara guessed. There were a varying number of chairs around flimsy looking tables and a few shabby looking booths. By far the best seats in the place seemed to be the sturdy looking stools in front of the bar.
There didn’t seem to be a need for a large amount of seating. Sarah knew that even the busiest pubs wouldn’t be packed on a Tuesday afternoon, but O’Flaherty’s seemed particularly deserted. As far as Sarah knew, there was only one person at the bar. A burly-looking older man, who Sarah guessed was in his fifties, was sitting on a bar stool, drinking from a bottle of beer and watching the small television above the bar.
Sara shrugged and took a stool at the other end of the bar. She was no prude and had drunk at dives before and this place in particular reflected her current mood. Sara felt bad at the thought of being surrounded by young, happy, successful people who were so loud.
The people at the bar ignored her. Sarah sat quietly for a moment wondering if she was a bartender or a customer, and then the small door behind the bar opened. Sarah thought the person stepping out of it was a woman and her legs looked nice. Sarah had to guess because the person was carrying several cans of beer and was completely covered from the waist up. Assuming that service was near, Sarah turned her attention to the television. There was some sort of quiz show going on. Sarah watched idly, waiting for food to be served.
“what do you want?”
Sara looked up and wanted to order a can and a beer, but immediately fainted. In front of her stood the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. She was tall, Sara guessed she was almost as tall as her, with thick, luxurious silky hair. Sara isn’t a big fan of color, but she would describe it as light red or dark reddish brown. Not only that, but a pair of large, bright, sparkling green eyes, a beautiful button nose, and thick, full, glossy red lips. Her face was pale and smooth, and she didn’t look old enough to be working in a bar, let alone tending a bar.
Although it was a pretty face, and a pretty one at that, it paled in comparison to the body underneath. The bartender was wearing a tight black t-shirt, and both breasts were stretched to the point where they were on the verge of bursting, looking like the biggest points Sarah had ever seen. They sat high on her chest, almost swelling out of her body. Despite their size and weight, they didn’t seem out of place on her. Skinny wasn’t the right word to describe the rest of the girl. Her stomach looked flat but soft, and her slim waist extended out towards her hips, reminiscent of the winding highways of her hometown. Her hugging jeans made Sarah feel like the luckiest person in the world. Long, shapely legs, stretched out behind the bar and a pair of practical black flats completed the look.
Sara had almost no reference for the girl’s appearance. There was nothing fake or plastic about her like a porn star, and she knew this girl was not a size zero like most supermodels that some people loved. Regardless, none of these models had curves like hers. Sara stared in surprise for a moment before calming down.
“Have a beer,” Sara finally managed.
The woman smiled at her, nodded, and turned toward the bar. As she did so, Sara caught a glimpse of her rear, which, if anything, dwarfed the front. Round and curvy, Sara was once again amazed at how perfect her figure was.
Sarah felt a strange desire building up inside her. Even though she hadn’t had sex for a year, she would feel hot whenever she was with this woman. Sarah didn’t like flowers and hearts much. When she looked at this girl, she didn’t want to date her or get to know her better; she wanted to fuck her. Sarah wanted to grab her, press her against the railing and fuck her until she collapsed from exhaustion. Sarah wasn’t opposed to her own pleasure, but she was particularly interested in bringing her lover to orgasm. The look, feel and taste of a woman turned Sarah on, as she trembled and screamed with pleasure. Whenever Sarah saw a woman she found sexy, she would immediately start imagining what they would look like during orgasm. Sarah never wanted to see a girl cum more than the girl behind the bar.
“Here you go,” the bartender said, returning with the drinks, and giving Sarah a sweet smile. “Do you want me to start a tag?”
Sarah nodded, still looking confused. The mysterious woman turned away from Sarah again and walked toward her other patron.
“How about this one, Jim? Want a new one?”
“Still working on it,” the older man replied. “What’s going on with Zac, Kevin, or whoever you’re dating these days?”
The pretty bartender frowned. “It’s over. And I’m going to get better.”
“Really.” He nodded obediently. ‘It seems he is not up to the task’
“Uh, I need a man,” she said desperately. “I mean, look at me.” The bartender stepped back from the bar, put his hands on his torso and waved. “Why can’t any of the men I’ve gone on dates with accept this?”
Sarah made a face. Women are simple. Of course it is. Sarah’s troubles returned and she turned her attention to her drink and gulped down the cold, bitter beer.
“Because you date young people,” the man replied. “Raised on tofu and video games, not red meat and national service,”
“Umm, so I need an older man, is that what you told me?” The bartender said flirtatiously, leaning toward his customer. “Do you think Gladys could stay with you for a night?”
“She’ll bite your arm off, kid,” Jim laughed sadly.
“Pfft,” she yelled, then turned to Sarah. “What about you? Know of a nice, available man you wouldn’t want?”
“I really wouldn’t do that.” Sara drank a glass of whiskey.
“Numbers,” the bartender yelled. “I guess that’s my destiny. An instrument like me, no Hendrix or Page to sing it.”
Sarah smiled softly and ordered another round. The rest of the afternoon basically went like this. While the bartender talked and flirted with her other customers, Sarah drank fast and heavily. When the bartender flirted with her she begged him to leave, and when he propositioned her she laughed and called him a “dirty pervert.”
To Sarah it seemed like a well-practiced routine. But Sarah was not in the mood. She wanted to drink. She wanted to forget about Audrey, the army, and her life. As the evening wore on, she was halfway done. By closing time the bar was nearly empty. Sarah and Jim stayed, and occasionally someone else would come in for a drink or two.
As the night ended, Sarah stood up, her head slightly spinning. She had been drinking for hours and had forgotten almost every relevant detail in her life.
The bartender noticed Sarah’s actions and walked over to her. “Spending the night?”
Sara nodded. She was drunk, but she knew that whatever she said would make her sound ridiculous. Even though she knew the girl was straight and obsessed with men, Sara felt no shame in looking stupid in front of her. Sara had just reached for her purse when the bartender placed a bill in front of her.
Sarah grabbed the small piece of paper and flipped it over, immediately noticing there was an error. Sarah estimated she had spent at least five dollars and drank at least a dozen beers and as many bottles of wine.
“You’re putting less pressure on me,” Sarah said softly, trying to keep herself calm.
“No, I didn’t,” the bartender said confidently as he cleared another area of the bar.
“But I’ve been drinking all night,” Sarah protested drunkenly.
“There’s a military price to pay for doing that O’Flaherty.” The redhead turned to Sarah and winked.
Sarah nodded. She didn’t tell anyone what she had been doing all day. She didn’t even cut her hair short or wear any military gear, her sandy blonde hair was simply tied into a tight ponytail and she wore jeans and a sweatshirt.
“Don’t be ridiculous, I can pay the bar bill,” Sarah continued to protest.
The beautiful girl shrugs. “It’s bar policy and there’s nothing I can do about it. Especially this time of year.”
Sarah had difficulty remembering what the last part of the sentence meant, and then remembered that Veterans Day was just a few days away. It actually fell on the day Sarah got out. Sarah remembers that she thought her last night with Audrey would coincide with the holidays.
This thought brought Sarah back to her problem, and she nodded sadly, reluctantly accepting the bar’s patriotic policy.
Sarah composed herself, straightened up, and let the red-haired bartender catch her eye again. She’d been looking at people all day, but this time, while the woman was busy tending the bar, she got a chance to take a long stare.
Sara didn’t know if she wanted to make sure the woman was real, or just wanted to store a mental image while masturbating, or both. Anyway, the two women’s eyes met. Caught off guard, Sara turned her head nervously and the bartender smiled to himself.
“Okay, I’m leaving,” Sarah said nervously, realizing how ridiculous it would be to announce to a group of strangers that she was leaving.
“Is that enough for a taxi?” the bartender asked.
Sarah nodded.
“Then you don’t know how to drive, do you?” he asked seriously.
Sarah nodded. The bartender looked at her searchingly for a second, as if she could tell if Sarah was lying or not just by looking at her. The bartender, who clearly looked satisfied, smiled and winked at her. “Okay, then enjoy it.”
The next morning, Sarah found herself in the same place at the same time. Her hangover had worn off, but her desire to drown her sorrows was strong again. When she woke up, she briefly considered finding a gay bar where she could and maybe trying to pick up a woman, but the truth was that even if Sarah was the kind of person who liked going to gay bars, there was still a chance that she’d meet O’Daly and he’d make her want to vomit. So she took another taxi to O’Flaherty’s at noon. Sarah didn’t know if this was the same bartender, but she figured it was a win-win situation for her. If it was a new bartender, Sarah could sit at the quiet bar and drink. If it was the same girl, Sarah could spend another day admiring the most sexually attractive image of a woman she’d ever seen. Opening the door, Sarah was sure which of the two options she preferred.
To her delight, it didn’t seem like anything had changed from the previous day. The older gentleman sat on a stool at the end of the bar, the same quiz show he had been watching playing on the TV, and Sarah immediately recognised the girl sitting at the bar with her back to the door. Those who serve. What a great ass.
