Thrice Rescued - Sex Stories

Thrice Rescued

... and three of his staff members were in the middle vehicle and another squad from my platoon was bringing up the rear. The Taliban must have had eyes on the convoy when we mounted up to leave the village, because they hit the middle vehicle with the RPG rather than mine. It went up in flames. I dismounted, spread my squad out in a perimeter and had them begin firing on the attacking force. With that force engaged, I ran to the middle vehicle and began pulling wounded out of it. The first guy I reached was the battalion commander. I got two of his staff out and was going back for another when the vehicle's fuel tanks exploded. Because of my body armor and helmet, my legs took the brunt of flames, leaving me with some interesting scars that guaranteed I wouldn't be wearing shorts very often in public. The force of the explosion also threw me into a low wall, knocking me out, breaking several ribs and shattering both bones in my lower right leg. When I came to, I was on a medivac flight to a hospital in Germany.

By the time my leg had healed, the Marine Corps had given me a Navy Cross, a Purple Heart, an assembly of plates and pins to hold my leg bones together and a medical discharge with a 40% disability rating. They paid my way back to my home of record, which was Gunny and Mrs. H's house, the place which I and they considered my home.

When I got home, Mrs. H asked me what I planned to do with the rest of my life. I was 22 years old, had trained as a rifleman, could ...

... teach martial arts, but had no real marketable skills. To her surprise, I told her I wanted to go to college and become a history teacher at the high school level. Gunny had forced me to set aside a huge chunk of my monthly pay in a college fund when I enlisted, so between those funds, the GI Bill benefits and my disability pension, college would be affordable. There was a decent state college with a fine history program and a well thought of education department about an hour from the Hopkins' house. Mrs. H helped me apply. Because I was 22 and had been living on my own for four years, I leased a small apartment about 15 minutes' walk from campus rather than think about living in the dorms with a bunch of college students. I registered as a double major, in history and education, and began knocking off my mandatory prerequisite courses, one of which was a freshman biology course, which included a weekly three-hour lab.

Because I was neither living in the dorms nor participating in Greek life or sports, I knew no one in my biology class. The instructor told us we would need to pick a lab partner. Since I was not the standard 18-year-old student, I didn't find anyone gravitating toward me. When the instructor asked at the end of the hour who didn't have a partner, only one other person raised her hand. It was a reasonably attractive woman sitting a few rows forward of me. The instructor told us to team up, exchange contact information, and dismissed the class.

I walked down ...