Sure enough, between the military women and the civilian contractors, I'd say that every guy there is .5 women. A few cuties, but the bulk were sea-hags, and the few cuties had guys stacked up over them like 727's at LaGuardia.
So what got me through? Regular visits to CH and (gasp!) Asian Street Meat. That switch hitting bald Brit is a buzz kill, but dammit man, the hoes for the most part are fine.
As I neared the end of my tour, I planned a quick trip to LOS to unwind and shop before heading back to the US. So I boarded the C-130 on the appointed day and flew to Kuwait, where I'd switch out of uniform and board commercial flights back to the world.
I built in a few days cushion in Kuwait just in case the C-130 broke down, and while there crashed in fat apartment of a civilian contractor who did work for me.
As you PI experts know, the Middle East employs hundreds of thousands of Filipinas to cook, clean, run the shops, etc. Well the guy I stayed with, I'll call him Hank, had a knockout Filipina GF. I was harded the chinese math and told me that she had to dredge up one of her fine friends, to which he said no problem. Of course I was skeptical; how many times has one of your boys promised to come up with some ass just to leave you hanging?
All day long I nagged this fool until finally the three of us scooped up "Jane" to get some sushi. Yowza! She was 5ft2, great eyes and C cups...and being the typical Filipina she was friendly and smelled great. If only the poor child knew what type of sick, horny monster I was!
Photo: Jane
We went for sushi at a pretty nice mall, while my organ was throbbing and I was throwing my best rap at Jane, all sorts of fine Filipinas, un-covered Arab girls and the Burka-covered type would amble by with WEAK looking men.
There is no booze in Kuwait so all four of us went back to the apartment to kill a bottle of Black Label...bless Filipinas and their drinking ability. After several rounds of drinks, a couple of cohibas and flirting, I finally just grabbed her hand, took her to my room and began the time honored game of "talking" her clothes off.
"make yourself comfy", "take of your jeans", "I'll turn my back while you take of your bra, yadda-yadda-yadda."
Eventually, we were under the sheets, her love orbs were out and I was in business!
Downer! Last day of her period...the BBBJ was great, and after 45 minutes of fondling, she knocked out...to be up and out at 6AM to her hotel Job.
DAY TWO: I slept late, sat next to the pool and hoped she was right about her period. That evening we all hooked up again, went to a different mall and plied her with this GREAT McDonalds version of the Gyro, and we did a little sightseeing at the Kuwait Tower:
I was dropping hints to my boy that we had to stop being tourists, cause I had 3hrs to my flight, hadn't packed, and needed to go ST with Jane. He finally took the hint, and we fought traffic back to his place. This time there was no drinking and partying. I took her straight to the room, showered, packed and laid out my traveling clothes. I had 45 minutes to get to the airport, and I was NOT going to miss my FRA to BKK connection!
It was smooth and fast! The period was over, and I gorged myself and my first serving of bearded clam in months...she got her orgasm shortly, we switched places and after a little bit of squirming, she was straddling me and bucking away. I lasted all but 4-5 minutes (I choked the chicken while in the shower to increase my staying power), she was happy, I was happy and we held hands and smooched all the way to the airport.
I kissed Jane goodbye at the curb, and wanted to kiss Hank too, because dammit, MY BOY CAME THROUGH. Ahead of me I had 6 hours to FRA, 16 hour layover, then 10 hours to BKK and paradise. Ain't war hell?