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Giggly USO girls, bored and sharing liquor and cigarettes after the last show of the day. It’s a small venue, so Steve doesn’t really get his own changing room, just a curtain to separate his space from the girls’, though by now he’s used to seeing breasts and bottoms and everything in between. The girls are amused by how valiant he still is about keeping his eyes to himself, because they've been living in each other's hair, living in each other's breathing space, so long that common boundaries have gone out the window. There's a war on, after all. Soldier on, soldier boy.
They like him. They drag him into the middle of their circle, hanging off of him and squeezing his biceps as they get tipsier. Steve feels a little awkward, a little flattered, a little shamefully turned on.
Maddie, from jersey, is the boldest of them. She crawls over to Steve, one bra strap falling off of her creamy shoulder, and that’s all he can keep his eyes on as she grabs his chin.
"You’re so pretty," she breathes, turning his face this way and that. "You’ve got thicker eyelashes than me." She presses one finger against his lips, then follows through with her mouth, which is waxy and wet and makes Steve jolt in surprise until he feels hands rubbing up and down his back, the other girls pressing closer.
Betty smells like cigarettes and floral perfume, she says, “Aw, was that your first?”
Steve doesn’t answer, but he lets Betty kiss him next, moans as she draws his large hand up to cup her breast. He can feel the thin wire of her bustier, and the warm, firm flesh under that.
Betty says, “D’ want me to be?”
Steve breathes, “Yes.”
They laugh and coo. The girls’ mouths taste like bourbon. Someone unbuckles Steve’s pants and drags them to his ankles. Someone comments on the blush that’s spreading down his chest like the Nazi invasion of Europe.
Alice gets a hand on his cock and Betty slaps it away, giving Steve a slow, sweet smile as she strokes him slick and aching.
"He’s big," one of the girls purrs.
Betty doesn’t even take off her costume, just twitches aside her skirt as she sinks down, down, making Steve moan deep in his chest from the hot, tight slide. She starts riding him with selfish rolls of her hips, moaning, “Oh, oh, oh” as Mercy straddles his face.
"Hello, luv," she says, raking her short nails through his hair, and he gives her a weak smile. Through the thin white cotton of her underwear he can see that she’s a true redhead, as she’d always claimed.
She winks at him as he slides his hands up her smooth thighs, holding her in place as he puts his mouth on her, over the damp cotton.
He comes too fast the first time, popping off like a champagne bottle as he screws his tongue into Mercy, her slick and his saliva sliding down his chin. Betty makes a disappointed noise as he deflates inside of her, then a louder, surprised noise as he swells right back up.
"I didn’t know i could do that," he pants against Mercy, who tugs at his hair, uncaring.
They pass him around like they do the liquor and cigarettes. He’s kissed, pinched, groped, fucked, used like a beloved toy in a whirl of powdered makeup and soft thighs, left with smears of red lipstick around bruise-purple suck marks.
Soldier on, soldier boy.