I Met Stella in Vietnam

No sexual activity involving people under 18 is mentioned.

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In 1971, I was 19 year old, idealistic guy who felt patriotic and joined the army. It was during the Vietnam War. Several months later, after completing basic training, like many others, I was shipped to Vietnam. In 1972, as a Corporal, I was stationed in Kontum. Initially, we hadn't seen much fighting, and the service was ALMOST pleasant. It all changed when the North Vietnamese had a 3 pronged attack, including our base. We fought heroically. I saw friends near me getting wounded with 2 dying in front of my eyes. I didn't have time to think about it. The last memory I had was a big boom near me, and I lost my conscience.

I woke up 3 days later in Kontum Montagnard Hospital. I was covered with bandages and dressings and couldn't move. I could see multiple intravenous lines and catheters attached to my body, but I was too confused to understand what was going on. It took me another day to realize I had multiple wounds and was in the local hospital. The first nurse I met was Stella. She was young, likely even younger than me. She saw me with my eyes open and sat by me. She explained that I suffered many shrapnel wounds. Some were removed by a surgeon, but multiple others would likely stay lodged in my body for life. Stella notified me that my life was no longer at risk, but I'd have to go through a long recovery and rehabilitation period. She visited me more frequently than other wounded soldiers. When I asked her what the reason was, she said, "I like you. Unlike certain soldiers who complain a lot or try to put their hands on my body, you seem to be a nice and polite person. There is another reason: I've read in your chart that you are from Milwaukee, Wisconsin. My family is also from there. Our house is in Whitefish Bay."

I smiled, "I went to Whitefish Bay High School."

After our first introduction, Stella came to visit often, chatting with me and bringing newspapers and candies. I liked her a lot. She was patient with me; She took care of my medications, shaved and bathed me. I was very grateful and didn't know how to repay her.

When I told her I wished to do something for her, Stella grinned, "That's OK. Once you feel better, you can take me out."

Two weeks later, I started walking independently. I felt much better. My appetite increased, and so did my libido, which was repressed for many months. I began looking at Stella no longer as a lovely nurse, but as a woman. She was 5'4", about 125 pounds, with long brown hair that was always arranged in a bun, and a cute, always smiley face. Her figure was not easy to appreciate because of her uniform, but her bosom seemed on the bigger side.

One day, I dared to ask her out. She laughed. I looked at her quizzically, and she explained, "I was fond of you from day one. For a couple of weeks now, I hoped you'd like me too, but I wasn't sure you felt the same way. So now that you asked me on a date, I laughed because it made me very happy."

...

Our first dates were platonic. We sat together to watch movies or strolled around hand in hand. Within 2 weeks, we found some shady corners and began making out. Our full sexual encounters occurred after dark. We were afraid to get caught, and our sexual escapades were short and simple. However, as time passed, we stopped worrying and knew several hanging out places where we could do it safely without prying eyes.

One of our favorite hiding locations was behind a small garage. After 7 pm, the area was empty, and nobody bothered us. There we felt free, and our sexual fun turned wilder over time. We experimented with every position we knew, including 69, doggy style, and cowgirl. Stella's body turned out to be very sexy. I especially loved her D cup tits. I licked, lapped, and sucked on them at every opportunity. One of my favorite sexual style was titfucking. Her breasts were especially suitable, and as my orgasm started, her habit of milking my pecker to a happy ending was the cherry on top.

I still recall that on my birthday, Stella mumbled, "Jo honey, I do not have much money to buy something fancy for you, but is there anything I can do to make your day feel special?"

I hesitated. She chuckled, "Don't be shy. I love you, and I'll do everything for you."

I said, "We have done almost every sexual position possible, but not all of them."

"Darling, did you check for a new position in the Kama Sutra?"

"Not really. I love your bubble butt and fantasized about anal, but I'll understand if you refuse."

She gazed sternly into my eyes and muttered, "I noticed you ogle my ass and imagined one day you'd ask to use it. My back hole is virgin. You are a good guy. I trust that you'll be patient and not rush the penetration. Yes, we can do it if you promise to take it easy and use a lot of lube."

It began like a regular doggy style, and when we were both aroused, I inserted my oiled index finger into her anus. She moaned and murmured that it felt good. Next, I invaded her puckered hole with a second finger and began widening her sphincter using circular movements. Stella moaned and pushed her butt into me. Shortly after, I removed my fingers, and slowly advanced the soft head into her back orifice. My 7" had average thickness, and eventually it pierced her anus and jolted inside. I waited for her sphincter to relax and dilate around my girth and then started ramming it into her ass. I heard her whisper, "Honey, it feels amazing, fuck me harder."

I accelerated my strokes, and we both came almost simultaneously. The feeling of her sphincter spasming on my erect cock and milking me into her bowels was the highlight of evening, and frankly, the best sex I ever had until then.

Our intimate relationship continued for another month, and then I was told that my superiors had decided to send me back to America. Vietnam was becoming a big mess. My wounds have almost completely recovered. The scar I cherished the most was on the left side of my chest. It was caused by a small shrapnel, which was still stuck there, although it never caused pain.

On my last day, we hugged, kissed, and cried together. We promised to stay in touch. The same evening, a military plane flew me to the USA.

...

Initially, we attempted to contact by e-mails and rare phone calls, but the worse the war in Vietnam developed, the connection became more difficult, and a year later, everything stopped.

In the following years, I became a policeman, married my high school sweetheart, and had a daughter and a son. My life was not much different than many others at that time. Over the years, both my children got married and moved to Arizona and New York, respectively.

3 years before our 50th anniversary, my wife began having difficulty breathing. We thought it was a viral infection. But when she deteriorated, we went to her doctor. After thorough diagnostic tests, her doctor told us she had lung cancer. She suffered during her many treatment procedures but never complained. She died 7 months later.

My children offered me to come live with them either in Arizona or New York, but I was reluctant to leave Milwaukee, where I grew up, lived most of my life, and had a couple of friends. I was now 73 years old and retired. I was still independent: I strolled about a mile every day, drove to do my shopping, and didn't need help with my daily activities. However, due to long waiting times for senior living homes, I felt it was time for me to check into a group home, so when the time comes that I needed help, I would already be in the right place.

...

On a Monday morning, I visited Laurel Oaks in one of the suburbs of Milwaukee. A nice woman showed me the place, including apartments with a single bedroom and 2 bedroom ones. The facility looked nice with a playroom, a shared TV room, and some other amenities I missed.

It was lunchtime, and many residents sat in the dining room to eat.

As we walked by, I saw an older woman who looked familiar, but I had no idea from where. I approached her and asked her, "Excuse me lady. I am sure I've seen you before, but for the life of me, I cannot remember where from."

She giggled, "Please open the first 3 buttons of your shirt."

I did as she asked. My shrapnel scar became evident. She started tearing, "Jo, it's me, Stella."

Oh, my god! It really was her. How SHE recognized me was beyond me. I sat with her, told the nice Laurel Oaks lady to leave us alone, and started reminiscing.

I found out that, like me, she got married many years ago, and followed her husband to Atlanta, where his job was. She never had children. Two years ago, her husband died of a heart attack, and she chose to return to her childhood neighborhood. Six months later, she was accepted to Laurel Oaks. We chatted for about 40 minutes, until she finished her meal. I left immediately after due to a prior engagement. I had scheduled with a contractor to fix my garage door. I promised to visit again during lunchtime on the following day.

The next day, I met Stella in the dining room and brought her fresh flowers. She smiled, "You remained a sweet gentleman like before. Listen, I didn't have time to clean my apartment. Between lunch and dinner, I'll do it. Why don't you come to visit me later for a nightcap?"

"Sounds great. Will 7:30 be OK?"

"Sure. See you later."

...

Before 7 pm, I shaved, showered, and put on clean clothes. Then it occurred to me that she mentioned the word 'nightcap'. What did she mean? Was it really an invitation for intimacy?... I went to my older neighbor, who was still married and had an active sex life, and asked him for a tablet of Viagra. He laughed, "Oldie, I guess you finally discovered the real fun." I said, "We'll see." I swallowed half a tablet and drove to Laurel Oaks.

I arrived just before 8 pm. Stella opened the door and grinned, "You are late, I thought you changed your mind."

I blushed.

She asked, "What is it?"

"What did you mean when you invited me to a nightcap?"

"I don't understand..."

"When I was young, we used the word 'nightcap' as a signal to have sex. I went to my neighbor and got from him a tablet of Viagra..."

She giggled, "It wasn't my original intention when I invited you. However, I remember our pleasurable times together. Wait here. I'll go to MY neighbor and ask her for KY jelly. Once I am back, tell me what position you had in mind."