Don't Fall For Me: A Secret Baby Military Romance

Cassandra

1

Claire

Oh no.

I stood on the edge of the pool in a red swimsuit, wishing the concrete would open up and swallow me. The suit, now more of a faded pink than red, was way too tight. My mom only bought me a plain one-piece because she was convinced that I needed to get my nose out of my books and my butt in the water.

Live a little! Phoebe begged. Get out there and meet some nice boys!

I’d refused to look up, cheeks flushing. Because the truth is there were no boys interested in me. I was more of a wallflower, the invisible girl who faded into the background.

But Phoebe didn’t know that. Even though we didn’t have much, my mom wanted me to get out there and make lots of friends, so she’d bought me a red swimsuit like the ones from Baywatch. But the problem was that even if the suit looked like the ones on TV, I don’t look like the actresses wearing them. I’m plush and round everywhere, more of a curvy girl than a hard body. So as you can imagine, the outfit looked completely different in real life.

But usually it’s okay. I like being luscious, and I’ve never thought that skinny string beans with gristly muscles looked good. But hey, to each their own. Except today. Today I was lined up, toes touching the edge of the water, looking at the Olympic-sized pool below, feeling horribly out of place. The water was beautiful, rippling and blue, but also slightly threatening. Could I handle it? Would I survive? We were doing the school swim test, and everyone else seemed comfortable and at ease. I, on the other hand, just prayed not to drown.

Squeee! shrieked the whistle. Jolted, I looked around wildly, staring at the other girls. What did that mean? But the instructor watching us just smirked.

Ready? she belted. Two laps ladies, over and back. It’ll be over before you know it!

My heart sank because the thing is, I’m not very good at swimming, and two laps is a lot. It’s not that I couldn’t do the two laps, it’s more that I’d swim them in a messy doggy paddle, flailing this way and that, kicking like a crazed animal. But no one said you had to be an Olympic swimmer with perfect strokes, so doggy paddle it was.

Then came more blasts.

Squeeeee! went the whistle. Squeee! Squeee!

At that, the other girls dived into the pool, slick as seals, while I watched, toes still curled over the edge of the cement. Oh god, oh god! They were already going strong and I was still stuck here like a lump on the hot concrete. This would never do.

Taking a deep breath and squeezing my eyes shut, I jumped in. No dive, god no. I can’t dive worth salt, and jumping in was fine, thank you very much. As I pushed off the edge, gamely I began trying to stroke. Right arm forwards, then left. Then right. Oh wait, and there was kicking too, I had to kick! Left foot kick and then right. And then left. I gasped, panting and flailing, hoping I didn’t look too stupid.

But the stress and anxiety got to me because I’m not an expert swimmer even on a good day, and this afternoon was worse than usual. My vision filled with blue and white shapes, bubbles that seemed about a mile high, and suddenly the water was everywhere. It weighed me down, panic rising in my brain and I began choking and splashing like mad.

Do the doggy paddle! screamed my mind. Pretend you’re a golden retriever enjoying a dip in the pool on a hot summer day! No big deal! Doggy paddle girl, doggy paddle!

But I couldn’t control my rising panic. The water was everywhere, pressing down on my head, making my limbs feel heavy and I thrashed more, trying to push the waves away. But it did no good and suddenly, I began to sink, to drop deeper and deeper into the depths, the silence forming a seal over my head.

Oh god, I never thought I’d die here in the school pool. I always thought I’d go peacefully when I was seventy or so, but instead, here I was at age eighteen, about to give up the ghost during a school swim test. It was humiliating but when you’re on your last legs, you don’t care anymore. A wave of peacefulness washed over my frame, my mind curiously light as I gave in. Good-bye Mom, came the words to my head. I love you.

But suddenly a crash sounded and I was propelled upwards, almost bursting from the water in a huge spray. Reflexively, my body jerked, coughing and hacking, trying to survive while clinging to my savior.

Because a man had rescued me, and he held me tight now, mouth in a grim line as he dragged us both over to the pool’s edge. Unable to focus, I clung to that muscular chest, desperately heaving and coughing.

Aacch, I snorted, water coming out of my nose and mouth. Aacch, aach, I hacked again, boobs heaving.

Okay, not the cutest way to make an entrance, but then again, what did it matter? I’d literally seen the light at the end of the tunnel, thinking it was my last moment on earth.

A heavy hand came down, clapping me on the back, helping me roll over so that I was on my side. More water spewed from my mouth as I hacked and coughed violently, big boobs spread on the concrete, my rump high and bare for all to see.

Because the damn suit had come off. During the flailing and thrashing, the cheap material had literally slipped off my breasts, and now here I was, creamy flesh spread out for all to see. Oh god, I had to cover myself. I had to pull the nylon back in place but I couldn’t because I was too busy hacking and coughing spastically, unable to do anything but vomit water.

But my rescuer took pity. Those big hands moved swiftly, and while it was just us, he pulled the swimsuit back in place, covering up my huge tits while making sure my pussy didn’t show.

Piece of work, aren’t you? a growl came. A real piece of work.

I glared up at him, still hacking and coughing. Did he think I couldn’t hear? How dare he call me a piece of work! It’s not liked I’d drowned on purpose. And why would I do that anyways? Did he think this was fun for me, that I’d subjected myself to this swim test on a lark?

But my mind stopped then, screeching to a halt. Because I’d felt that male body against me earlier, while my savior dragged me out of the pool. But I hadn’t really looked at him, too busy coughing my guts out. And now that my spasms were dying down, my eyes took in the lifeguard before me and widened appreciatively.

Because the man was absolutely gorgeous. Built like a god, he had a huge, broad chest that narrowed into a vee, showcasing developed pecs and a defined six pack. Plus he had strong arms and thick, powerful thighs, making him prime lifeguard material.

But it wasn’t just his chest and abs that did it for me. It was the rock hard length that curved under his board shorts. Because he wore regulation lifeguard gear, a pair of swim trunks that weren’t overly tight, but they couldn’t even begin to hide what lay beneath. There was a giant ridge underneath the fabric, running along the length of one massive thigh, and I gasped, eyes going wide involuntarily. His swimsuit had come loose during our ordeal as well, and what I saw made the air disappear from my lungs, chest going tight.

It was his dicktip. That’s right, his cock was so huge and hung that the tip literally dangled from the opening of one pant leg, the glans a deep purple, shiny and helmet-like. Staring like a wild woman, I could even see his hole, that tiny little opening that beckoned, making me want to press my tongue inside.

Unable to speak, my gaze flew up at the man, and immediately, the air whooshed from my lungs again, making it impossible to breathe. Because he was so gorgeous, so devastatingly handsome that my heart skipped a beat. Black hair and piercing blue eyes looked back at me, amused, that mobile mouth curving into a knowing smile.

Sorry about that, my savior ground out. Didn’t mean to shock you but it was an emergency and all.

With that, big fingers adjusted his board shorts so that his dick no longer showed.

We don’t get a choice about our uniforms, and this was the longest they had, he shrugged, eyes still gleaming at me. I figure you can put up with it seeing that I just saved your life after all.

Panting and heaving, I struggled to sit up, my curves still blatantly obvious in the too-tight suit.

Thanks, was all I could manage in a strangled voice. I appreciate it, I croaked again.

Oh my god! My brain screamed. You just saw his cock and that’s all you can say? He just saw your pussy and creamy tits, and that’s all you can say? Oh my god, oh my god!

But there was nothing more to be done because people were running over now with cries of, Did Claire drown? Is she going to live? Call 911, does anyone know CPR?

Never mind that I was sitting up now, clearly on the right side of life. Sure, I looked like a wet rat, but still, I was going to live. And with another knowing grin, that smile gleaming and white, the lifeguard strolled away.

Take care, now, came his departing rumble. Try not to drown again.

With that, a circle of people surrounded me, blocking his retreating form from my gaze. A babble of voices filled my ears, annoying and loud, but I couldn’t hear. All I could see in my mind’s eye was the bronze god who’d saved my life. The man with the wicked blue eyes, muscled bod, and hot, hung rod.

It was so wrong. I should have been panicked, and I should have been worrying about my health, but did that matter? No. All I could think about was him. What was his name? Did he usually work here? Would I ever see him again? I’d failed my swim test after all, and it was going to take some practice. Maybe he could teach me?

Thus, despite the swirl of activity surrounding my frame, a secret smile crept onto my lips. Because yes, I’d been drowning. Yes, I’d been helpless in the deep end of the pool, ready to say my last rites. But I hadn’t been so out of it that I didn’t notice what had happened, namely that when the studly lifeguard put his arms around me, pulling me from the depths, it had pressed against me. I’d felt that hard rod pulsing against my thigh, the unmistakable pole of man pushed up hard against my belly, ready to take. The fuckshaft had seared me then, even on the brink of death, and maybe that’s what had brought me back from the edge.

Because I don’t want to die a virgin. I want that massive piece of iron claiming me, delving deep into my insides, and impaling me to the max. I wanted to pant in the gorgeous alpha’s arms, but with a different kind of panting this time, one of lust, heat, and need.

Shaking my head, body vibrating, my eyes began to focus again. I was a changed woman now. I couldn’t die a virgin. I had to find him. I had to feel him again, to press myself against that body, and take him inside my pussy, milking him deep.

Was this really me? Did these dirty thoughts really belong to shy Claire McLain, girl one who’s never been with a man? But it was true because in a flash, my life was different now. I was innocent and naïve yes, but the alpha had shown me something that I wasn’t supposed to see … and now, I wanted more.

2

Kyle

That girl in the pink bathing suit had been fucking hot.

The front door slammed shut and I tossed my keys on the table. The sun was still up even this late in the evening, and natural light flooded over plain white walls and the few pieces of throwaway furniture in the place. The apartment wasn’t meant to be fancy. Just a place to lay my head when I was in town, a place to sleep, eat and fuck until it was time to go wheels-up again.

I headed for the shower, ready to get rid of the chlorine smell. Most days I didn’t care. It was better than the stuff that would stick to my body when I’m on duty. Blood. Gritty sand. Gun oil. Sometimes much worse. But the smell of the chlorine only reminded me of my part-time job, and the girl in the pink bathing suit. Even hours after I’d seen her, touched her, my whole body was keyed up, shoulders tight.

Fuck. She’d felt good. Soft. Even her scent, something flowery and light had somehow survived her jump in the pool. Maybe she’d put perfume under her tits. God knew I’d been close enough to practically suck those breasts in my mouth.

Fuck man, what’s wrong with you? growled my brain. You’re paid to save lives, and yet you’re thinking of molesting the poor victim? You’re fucked up man, really fucked up in the head.

I grunted, acknowledging the truth. Because yeah, I’m a player and when I’m not fighting, usually I’m fucking. It’s second nature, and I’ve learned to roll with it. It doesn’t bother me, actually, because it makes for a real nice life. Pleasurable, to say the least.

Stepping into the bathroom, I stripped and climbed under the cool shower spray, barely paying attention to what I was doing. That damn girl … aww shit. The boobies. The cunt. The way she’d looked at me, eyes wide, taking in my dangling dicktip. Damnit.

But what was so special about her? Girls love this stuff; they love my body, and they adore the penetrating blue eyes. They eat whatever I give and bend over when I command, everything out for me to enjoy. So what was so different about this one curvy brunette who’d almost died in my arms? It was unreal.

The water pulsed down from my industrial strength shower head, pounding onto my bod, and I braced my palms against the wall, allowing the liquid to sear the muscles of my neck, over my shoulders, and down my back. It felt good enough to make me groan out loud. But not as good as if that girl was in here with me.

Shit. Her again. I just couldn’t get her of my damn mind.

It’s not every day that a chick makes me hard at the pool, but once I’d made sure she was safe after her drowning episode, I couldn’t help but notice those soft hips and how good they felt in my hands. And then it was an easy jump to imagining what it would be like to take her doggie style, gripping handfuls of hips and tits, yanking back hard as she screamed my name.

Yeah. I got stiff real fast thinking that. It’d be all soft, luscious flesh, plenty of ass and big, juicy boobies to grab. These days, ass and tits are a luxury because most chicks are scrawny as hell, starving themselves to look like scarecrows. So yeah, the brunette was different in a good way, one that made me salivate hungrily.

Fuck.

My dick was so hard that I didn’t even try to resist the temptation to beat off. Stroking myself, I set up a rough and quick rhythm. The water rushed down on my shoulders and back as I gripped the thick meat of my cock and imagined her curvy body in the shower with me. Oh yeah, my pole is fucking huge, but I was sure the brunette could take me, swallow all ten inches into the slick wet pink of her cunt.

I groaned again, eyes closed, chest heaving with exertion. Damnit. It felt so fucking good that I growled nastily as I burst, the roar bouncing around the bathroom like an echo chamber. Blast after blast of white hot spunk splattered the stall wall, leaving tracks of fresh jizz.

Because goddamn, it felt good.

If it felt this amazing just thinking about her, what would it be like if I got my hands on her? Shit. Did I even want to know?

I shook my head to clear it, partly enraged, partly desperate.

Time to leave this shithole apartment of mine and do some real damage … before I fucking jizzed again.

Because this is a college town, there aren’t many grown-up places to go. At least not in my opinion. It was either that place that had an open mic and hipsters galore, or the wine bar on the strip that had couples staring into each other’s eyes in a way that made me feel lonely as hell. The third—and my usual—choice was Killian’s, a bar with a big variety of any kind of alcohol you could imagine. That always made things better.

The place was generally pretty thick with college kids: douchy frat bros and sorority chicks intent on getting as drunk as