I was asked to take cadre command over a summer Army ROTC boot camp consisting of college-aged kids. I knew that the program was open to both girls and guys, but was surprised to find the competition so strong, especially from the females, for scholarships. The girls were supposed to be equal to the guys, but it didn’t take long for me to figure out that while the guys were physically stronger, the girls were more skilled in the mental challenges associated with decision making tasks.

Towards the end of the training cycle, the first group of about one hundred kids camped out in what is called a bivouac. The girls seemed to band together to get things done quicker and seemed to be more organized than the guys. While guys were fiddling with tent erecting, and figuring out how to get a good camp fire going, the girls built one big lean-to and had a roaring fire going, within minutes of us setting up a base camp. I was pretty sure it didn’t meet Army standards for a bivouac, but I wasn’t going to be the one to break up their happiness.

As a company commander, I was responsible for making sure things ran smoothly. For the most part, Army drill sergeants ran the show on a daily basis and I only had peripheral contact with the cadets- mainly those in a leadership position.

A couple of tag-along privates erected my general purpose tent in the grove of trees separating the girls’ camp from the guys. In the past, we had mixed bivouacs, but because of issues with the guys and the girls ending up in each other’s tents, Army Command decided to separate the bivouac camps, by sex.

I sauntered over to the ladies’ camp and found them cheerfully sitting around chatting and finishing off a big cauldron of chicken soup. They offered me a small bowl, but I declined.

Wandering back to the men’s side of the camp, separated from the female side by a grove of trees, I found a groups of guys paired off in smaller groups of two or three, arguing over who would gathered up wood for a camp fire.

I retreated to my tent, after walking around a bit and checking on things. I settled down on to my Army cot.  I was just about asleep when a female cadet flipped opened the tent flap and stuck her head in.

“Sir, can I have a word with you, sir?” she inquired.

I immediately recognized Cadet Milowsky’s familiar face. I had first noticed her when she stepped off the bus, several weeks back. She was about 5’6, maybe one hundred and twenty pounds and strikingly beautiful but slightly naive with short hair, a buxom blonde from upstate Wisconsin. She had served as a cadet squad leader, platoon and leader and I was hoping to have her take on a cadet company command in the next week. She was one of the few cadet women, who could hold her own, with the guys, and she had an attitude and a mouth, to match.

“I grew up on a farm with five brothers,” Cadet Milowsky had once told me in passing, after she had beat out a strong cadre of guys on an obstacle course.

“Come on in cadet,” I replied. I sat up on my Army cot. Cadet Milowsky stepped into my tent. I slipped down to the end of my Army cot, and head nodded at the empty space on my cot. Cadet Milowksy sat on the end of my cot, her hands folded and clasped between her knees. I could instinctively tell she was nervous.

“I’m catching a lot of grief from some of the girls, who are telling me I’m showing them up,” Cadet Milowsky began. “I’m losing their support.”

“Don’t worry about the ladies,” I replied. “You’re a leader, a natural leader, and you can’t please everyone, all the time.”

Cadet Milowsky nodded her head up and down to indicate she understood.

“Thank you, sir,” she replied, “That is what I needed to hear.”

I wasn’t buying into her ‘lack of support” comment as a reason for the tent visit. She started to get up and I stopped her- putting my hand on top of hers. She looked at me, but didn’t say anything.

“What’s your first name, cadet?” I asked.

“Kim, sir,” she replied, “Kim Milowsky.”

“Is Milowsky, Polish?” I inquired.

“I don’t know,” she replied, “It might be. All I know is that it has been the family name for years.”

I had to smile at her sense of humor. I sensed there was a far deeper reason for her trek into the grove of trees late at night, so I leaned back and decided to take a different approach.

“Can I call you Kim?” I asked.

“Sir, yes, sir,” she responded.

“OK, look,” I responded, “That’s one to many ‘sir’s.”

It was a sticky, hot evening at Fort Knox, the kind where you sweat, even sitting still or just laying on your Army cot in the woods.

“I was thinking to elevate you to a company command next week,” I remarked. Cadet Milowsky’s eyes widened.

“Think you could handle it?” I asked.

“Yes sir!” she replied. I changed gears.

“Do you have a boyfriend back in Wisconsin?” I asked.

“No sir,” she replied, matter-of-factly.

I pressed on. “I know I’m not supposed to ask, but I am going to anyway- not that it matters a whole heck of a lot, but are you gay?”

“I don’t think so,” she responded.

“Is that like a ‘maybe’ or just a flat out ‘no’? I asked.

“Well…it more like an ‘I don’t know’. . .I like guys, even though I’vs never been all the way- and I kind of like girls, but I’m not sure. Does this make any sense?” she answered.

“So are you saving yourself for marriage?” I asked.

“No, not really,” she responded. “I grew up in a small community and there just amen’t a lot of guys around. Well, there are guys, but they’re either related or are a bit slow, if you know what I mean.”

“Well there are a ton of guys here at Fort Knox,” I replied.

“Yeah,” she replied, forlornly looking across the tent. It was unbearably hot inside my tent. I was already in my Army tan- t-shirt, but still had on my BDU trousers and boots.

“Do you want to take off your BDU blouse and get comfortable?” I asked.

She unbuttoned her camouflage shirt and paused, before removing it. Her Army t-shirt was sweat soaked and clung to her upper torso, in spots. She casually draped her camouflage shirt over her leg.

“I need a shower,” she remarked, leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knees, cradling her chin on top of her clasped hands, looking straight ahead.

“We all need a shower,” I replied.

“So what is on the training schedule for tomorrow?” she inquired.

“I think we have a five kilometer road march,” I replied.

“Five k’s?” she inquired. “Oh my gosh! I better turn in!”

“You’re already half way there,” I replied.

She looked at me and smiled, not saying a word. She made a squirrelly-looking face, biting down on her lower lip. She leaned back on my cot, placing her hands on the back edge, silently stretching out her feet in front of her. She arched her back, rolled her shoulders and stretched.

“It’s been a long day,” she remarked.

I stood up and pulled at my Army issued sleeping bag. She was forced to stand, but said nothing, as she watched me spread the sleeping bag out on the open ground in front of us. I tossed my clothes bag on top of it- which I was using for a make-shift pillow.

I unfastened the laces on my boots, as she stood with her hands on her hips, watching me. I slipped off one boot and then the other. I reached over and turned down the flame on my Army lantern.

“Are you staying, or going?” I asked.

“Do I have a choice?” she replied.

I stripped out of my t-shirt and lay down on my Army sleeping bag, which was unzipped and spread open in front of us.

“It’s your choice,” I remarked, looking up at her. I rested my head in the folds of my hands behind my head. She sat on the edge of the Army cot and silently unlaced her boots.

“I hope I don’t regret this,” she whispered, slipping off one boot and then the other.

“It’s all your choice,” I replied, as I slipped my belt from my camouflage pants and tossed it to the side

She knelt down on her knees and crawled on to my sleeping bag beside me, slipping her hand across my bare chest and on to my shoulder, as she snuggled up close to me.

I slipped my arm around her, as she rested her head on my bare shoulder. She looked up and our lips met in a soft and light kiss. She moaned as we kissed, tossing her leg over mine.

I slipped my hand under her t-shirt and along her soft waist. I put my hand on top of hers, and slid it down to my crotch, where my raging hard-on strained to be set free. Amy fatigues don’t have zippers- just buttons. I slipped her fingers between the buttons so she could feel the growth building in my trousers.

She lowered her head and lightly kissed a bare nipple on my chest. She wasted no time in working her way towards my abdomen and eventually below my navel. I slipped two of my trouser buttons out of their slits, allowing her free roam and reach into my crotch.

“My gawd!” she whispered, as she felt my cock through my underwear. She slipped my camouflage trousers and my underwear down my thighs, allowing my nine-inch circumcised cock to spring free. She wrapped her fingers around my thick shaft and lightly kissed the purplish bulb-end of my cock. She used her fingers to wipe my pre-cum around the head of my cock, mixing it with her saliva. She slipped her lips over the end of my throbbing cock, as I grabbed her blonde hair and squeezed it in my hands.

She pushed her mouth down on my cock and gagged.

“Easy, take it easy” I said, “Breathe through your nose.”

She took in a deep breath through her nostrils, working her head up and down on the length of my hot rod. She pulled it out of her mouth, a line of saliva going from her bottom lip to the top of my cock, breaking in the soft glow of the lantern light. She rubbed her thumb on the back side of my shaft. I pulled her up from her kneeling position and planted a kiss on her lips, thrusting my tongue into her mouth. She pressed back, her tongue dancing a wicked dance with mine, until my lips were practically numb.

She slipped out of her camouflage trousers and her black lace panties. A closely cropped, small, thin strip of golden brown hair pointed the way to her glory spot. I slipped a lone finger into the slit between her legs and she trembled. She was extremely moist.

She lay naked on her back next to me.

“Please be gentle,” she whispered, her arms stretched out to her sides. I lightly kissed each of her nipples, encircling them with my tongue, massaging each with my hands. She took a deep breath and exhaled as I worked my way down to her well-toned and flat abdomen, circling her navel with kisses. I was positioned between her spread legs, my breast bone pressing against her pelvis and her pubic region. I lowered my chin to an erogenous area, a spot just above her pussy and I pressed down. She moaned as I lowered my mouth to her sweet spot, as I separated her pussy lips with my fingers. I lightly flicked my tongue across the hood that covered her clit and she wiggled her hips back and forth, biting down on her lower lip.

I slipped my tongue in and out of her pussy, alternating between sucking, licking and using my fingers to heighten her feelings. Her moans grew louder and I was sure that at any second, someone might burst through the tent flap.

I hovered over her, the tip of my cock right at the entry to her pussy, pressing against it.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yessssss,” she replied, “Put it in me!”

I slipped my cock into her pussy. She was a tight fit. As soon as I hit her hymen, I grabbed her wrists and held them over her head.

“Fuck me,” she pleaded, looking into my face. “Dammit! Fuck me!”

I pushed against the thin membrane that separated her from adulthood, and she took in a quick breath and then let out a small shriek as it broke. She grimaced and then closed her eyes, as I pushed my cock all the way in, my pelvis coming to rest against hers. I pulled back slightly and pushed against her again, which elicited a deep moan of approvals from her.

“Oh my gawd! “I am coming!” she remarked, as a flood of womanly juices filled her vagina, the walls of her pussy constricting vice-like, on my thick cock. She put her hands around me and dug her finger nails into my back, as she shook and trembled violently, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. I couldn’t hold back and let it fly, my jism mixing with her juices and filling her tight pussy to overflowing. I pumped and pumped and pumped until I was sure I couldn’t pump out any more.

She exclaimed in rapid fire succession, “Oh-my-Gawd, my-Gawd, my-Gawd!!! Fuck meee!!”

I rolled on to my back, pulling her on top of me, my cock still in her. She pressed her hands into my chest, and bit down on her lower lip, as she worked her hips back and forth, my cock buried deep inside of her. Her boobs bounced up and down and I did my best to hold on to them. She stiffened and shook, as another massive orgasm rocked through her muscular body.

She collapsed on to my bare chest, her head coming to rest on my shoulder. My cock slipped out of her pussy, even as she pleaded, “No, no, no.”

She stretched out her legs between mine and lie motionless on top of me, her hands holding on to my shoulders.

“Oh my gawd,” she whispered. “I hope it is always like this!”

We kissed again, and she trembled, yet another time. At some point, we stopped kissing and she lie perfectly still on top of my naked body. I pulled the sleeping bag over us and closed my eyes. The flame in the lantern flickered and as it ran out of oil, it eventually burned out, leaving us in total darkness. I slipped my young lover off of me and to my side. She was in a deep sleep and I listened to her breathing, which was punctuated by a soft purring-like moan. I kissed her on her check and fell asleep.

I woke to hear muffled voices outside my tent. Cadet Milowsky’s eye fluttered open, as she lay naked beside me under the cover of my Army bedroll.

“Oh shit!” she whispered.

I “shhhhh’d” her and pulled myself from the sleeping bag. I slipped on my underwear and my trousers, and handed over her undergarments and her uniform trousers and her socks. We both got dressed and she climbed from the sleeping bag, staggering as she stood up. I put my hand out and helped to steady her.

“Are you OK?” I asked.

“Sir, yes, sir,” she replied, looking for her service cap. She retrieved it from my cot, as I rolled up my sleeping bag.

She took a step back and stood at attention. She rendered a sharp hand salute and held it in place.

“Sir, may I go now, sir?” she asked.

“You’re free to go,” I replied, returning her hand salute. As she started to open the tent flap, she turned and looked back at me.

“Thank you,” she remarked. Before I could respond, she disappeared out of my tent.

A week later, Cadet Milowsky was promoted to cadet company commander and I was happy to pin the cadet insignia on her lapel. The ROTC assignment was a brief one and one I would not soon forget. I just got back from my second tour in Afghanistan and as I settled into my new assignment as the Operations Officer for a support battalion, the Battalion Adjutant called and told me I had a new Operations Assistant. What are the chances? How many Kim Milowsky’s could there possibly in the US Army?