Red Is The Color Of Our Lives (And Red Is The Color Of Our Blood)

Holy

Warnings: ⚠️ NSFW in the beginning and throughout chapter.
You've been warned

Or fed.
Both?
Yeah, I guess.
Lol
Anyways.
Back to the story.
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ho·ly
/ˈhōlē/
adjective
1.
dedicated or consecrated to God or a religious

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Sacred.
Consecrated.
Worship.

They all truly have the same meaning.
Truly.

You'd wager for a cross on someone's wall or the mighty hands of twisted fate to drawls out the warm  feeling in your guts lining, searing you hot and heavy as the water bated agaisnt your skin.

Seemed the only luxurious thing of this job here at the base where SpecGru and KorTac where able to get along when stationed was a shower.
More so, 141 was your team, a small little holed up home of your own, sacred.

Funny..

Your thighs shuddered at the preening stretching of your own fingers, it's not enough to make you see stars, but enough to bite your appetite to keep to yourself.
Easier to hide and work your own unwarranted and unholy taste throughout the time here on your own hands movements.

Bones, flesh – they shatter and rip and leave you with nothing but sand-grain memories that slip like water. 

It’s hard to indulge in something so fragile. Heedless, stupid.  There are constants assured to never waver; you all have your vices.

A silly hope bubbles, absent of all logic. You want to push it; to tear at delicate petals, chanting. He loves me, he loves me not. Silly recess games, dancing around each other on the playground: what is your type, Colonel?
Girls in sheer dresses to welcome you at the door? God forbid – a husband or wife waiting at home?

Probably far away from someone who have their inhibitions compromised – who run on nicotine and not much else. Vacant husk.

Fuck. 

But if it were him. If he was the force between your fingers – blood-filled, thickset, shooting into your willing mouth – you’d abandon it all in a heartbeat. Cheek on his shoulder, cunt speared on his knuckles. Pumping, slick. Licking the salt up off his forehead as he mumbled soft words into your ear, coaxing you.
Telling you how good of a boy you where for him.
Praises.

You ached it as you slid your hands against your own heat, relishing in the waters spewing water, it'd turn cold moments..minutes ago, hours?
You didn't care.
Relinquishing in the pooling bubble of euphoria tearing through your own speared cunt as you worked yourself..
Remembering how your lips felt on the Colonels the night before as you pressed smoke into his lungs, before sucking it back out and leaving.

The buzz.
The head rush.

You smacked a hand to your mouth as you moaned into your hand..
Eyes squeezing shut as you felt yourself physically clench against your own two fingers.

Barely take that.
Let alone the man's huge hands.
You swallowed thickly at the mere thoughts of it.
Speared on just a finger let alone two of three of them..

God forbid the man's own cock.

Justified by your own imagination.
The man was 6'10 and three hundred pounds of muscle.
He was in all means huge on every aspect.
Perhaps what laid beneath matched?

You should be ashamed of these thoughts - you curled a finger, emitting your hips to jerk against your own hand as you shuddered, whimpering-  but your not.