We’d inch up the hallway toward the nurses' station, and then would pass by Pete’s room, where he was recovering from severe head trauma. I'd always wave and say some smart-ass thing, but he'd just stare back at me blankly. He was more than a gunner to me. We went through flight school together. He was my best friend. I felt responsible for what happened. I had been over it a thousand times. If only... I broke it off sooner. If only... I had fired sooner. If only...Times have changed, I thought as I struggled to walk. It was Just a few months ago, I was running five miles a day. Now I was lucky to make it down this fucking hall and back with assistance. At 8:00 AM, it was time for my scrumptious hospital breakfast, consisting of the same old powdered eggs, soy bacon, oatmeal, milk, and coffee. I actually discovered something worse than Army food, hospital food. It was around 11:30 AM that I was startled to hear a familiar voice. It was Linda Halley. “Hey, big boy! It's lunch time.”. About 5'8, dark curly hair, 170 lbs about...not fat yet not skinny."Jeez, Jake, whats the matter? You got a problem down unda?" I said in an Austrailian accent after about half an hour of itching. "Suck my dick, Evan." He replied. A muttering of 'ooohs' spread through our tight circle. "You would like that, wouldnt you Jake? That is, if you have anything to suck at all." I replied immediatly. Another wave of ohhs went through."I got more of a dick than you do, i can prove it." He replied. His face was a look of confidence.He stood up, dropped his jeansand boxers and exposed his member. Laughs and giggles were vibrant around our campfire, why we had one when it wasnt dark is beyond me. Jakes 2 inch soft member was almost invisible in the campfire light. I was laughing the hardest."What? You think you can do better?" He said, pulling up his pants. "Lets see it." He said.He knew he had said the wrong stuff when I stood up with udder defiance. I was 6' tall, athletic body, 6.
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