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The Muslim Virgin & The Green Beret

by Brooklyn Mayflower

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2018 by Brooklyn Mayflower, Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission, requests write to the publisher at


Characters in this book who engage in sexual acts are consenting adults. Characters are not based on real persons. No intention is being made to encourage any action which is unlawful. This story is a work of fiction. Please have sex responsibly, legally and safely.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 – Mission Clusterfuck

Chapter 2 – Taking Refuge

Chapter 3 – Morning Surprise

Chapter 4 – A Farewell Present

Chapter 1 – Mission Clusterfuck

The sounds of gunfire and explosives echoed throughout the city. It was the ninth time in the last two weeks when Mack had to face that kind of situation in Afghanistan, so his ears had already adapted to the roaring chaos. The area was famous for being the territory of the Taliban. His twelve-man Special Forces A-Team had been deployed to locate the leader of a terrorist group and take it out or haul them in to answer for crimes against the Afghani people. In this particular area it was like he was driving through Hell. The vehicle rumbled more from explosions going off just on the other side of the mountains than from the dirt road. The scenes of horror that he had witnessed had sent chills through the bones of even these hardened green berets, but they were determined to succeed in their mission. Mack gathered his courage and pressed on toward the objective.

“Mack, did you tell Christy about your promotion to Major?” Jordan asked.

His name was Kyle Jordan, a black guy from Louisville, Kentucky. He was a very talented shooter, with really good marksmanship, but his primary specialization was combat medicine. It was more than two weeks since Mack had seen Christy. He had met her in linguistics training. All green berets were expected to be at least semi-fluent in several languages, as their strategic purpose—other than clandestine, or special operations—was to train foreign locals to fight the enemies of the United States. They were, for all intents and purposes, drill sergeants capable of training and commanding an entire battalion of men—turning them from scrubs, into a deadly foreign auxiliary.

“Are you crazy? Telling her I’ve accepted the promotion is more dangerous than this mission! She was hoping I’d just get out of the service and go get a nice desk job, but if I told her I’ve decided to do a full 20 years, I’d never hear the end of it,” Mack said, gripping the wheel tight with a gloved hand.

Christy was an incredible woman; she had a beautiful face, nice curves, pert breasts, tall and she was a great kisser. But she was bold, temperamental and dominant, which tainted all her splendor. Though Mack was commanding and assertive with his men, he always somehow found himself wrapped up with a dominant woman. Naturally, the relationship would dissolve, because his alpha personality was never satisfied not being the one in charge.

After the two-week struggle, intelligence was obtained confirming the location of the Taliban leader. They were on their way to meet the enemy, or so they expected. They had faced many problems during the mission, which had stretched far past the initial estimation of how long it would take. Food supplies were running short and they desperately needed to replenish their energy, having gone days without sleeping more than a few hours. The mixed feelings of fear and emotion mingled in the men. Some men fought against the depressing images they saw of life in a war torn land, while others were anxious to get the mission over with. Bogdan—a new member of their A-Team—was happy just to finally put all his training to good use.

They had roamed the cities and towns chasing down leads on the enemy’s location. With only a few Army-issue MREs left to eat they had packed in as much local food as they could get their hands on. Though the girls they saw were usually covered modestly head to toe, Mack couldn’t help but think of what it would be like to see them naked. He was used to war, and its hellish environment caused his testosterone to rage. Getting an erection out in the field wasn’t uncommon no matter how bleak the surroundings. The last time he saw a naked girl came to mind as he zig-zagged the vehicle around potholes and avoided heaps of garbage that could be an IED (Improvised Explosive Device). He thought of Christy, her strong thighs, the sweetness of her lips, and her moans as his cock plowed into her. Mack started to feel his cock come alive but started to shift his thoughts so as not to lose concentration.

“How far is that place, Mack?” Stevens asked from the back seat.

Like all of them, he was worried about his life but anxious to get into another fight. The other day Mack had heard Stevens second-guessing his decision to reenlist. He seemed more scared than the rest of the men, because, although he had a few more years of practice than the other members of the team, last year Stevens had become a father, and had seriously considered hanging up his green beret.

“According to the map, I think we are almost half an hour from our destination.” Jordan replied loudly over the sound of more explosions in the distance.

“Damn,” Stevens said squeezing his rifle, itching to get there and get this thing over with.


The map was right, but the intel had been wrong. They could already make out the silhouette of the Taliban leader’s hideout on the side of the road. But it was immediately clear the leader had more men with him than what Mack and his team had been told. When the Taliban ambushed them, they knew they were screwed. Lesser soldiers would’ve been massacred on the spot, but they were elite trained American fighters, and they knew how to react. The mission was a failure, that much was clear, but they could still get out alive, or at least avoid getting taken as prisoners and potentially used as bait. It was each man for himself at that point as they all tried to take down as many Taliban as possible while still managing to get out alive.

His team took out the first wave of enemies who’d ambushed them, but they knew more would not be far behind. It became immediately clear when they heard a machine gun somewhere in the distance and it took out two wheels of their vehicle. They had to run, and they’d be harder to find if they went their separate ways.

Mack took off and ran, not even realizing one of the bullets had grazed his thigh. It wasn’t a serious injury. All he cared about was getting to safety in one piece.

Chapter 2 – Taking Refuge

After a long run all night, Mack saw some lights from a town just a few kilometers ahead of him. Mack felt relaxed, thinking that he was safe, but his feeling of satisfaction was short-lived. There was a sudden noise behind him. A man? An animal? He didn’t know but he started running again.

He ran for twenty more minutes in the direction of the lights. Finally, he saw some people walking and the feeling of being safe washed over him, but he shook the feeling away. He was a white American in a military uniform. It was foolish to think he was safe, but he was praying for shelter. He skulked around the outer edges of the town. The place was in terrible condition. The walls of several buildings were crumbling, and the streets were either unpaved or dirt roads full of bumps and potholes. Apart from a few modern looking structures, the place looked to be hundreds of years old. As he got in closer he noticed that most places seemed to be sealed up tight, and only a few people were out walking in the night. Mack worked his way through a maze of streets and allies, dipping in and out of the shadows. He spotted some men’s clothing that someone had left out to dry. He seized the opportunity, quickly changing out of his uniform and stuffing it in a trash can.

Now feeling a little safer, or at least like he was no longer calling attention to himself, Mack decided to find a place to sleep. He still needed to get back to base, or find a way to get in contact with his team to have them come find him, so he needed to sleep and gather as much energy as possible to keep running the next day.

Finding an alley that looked quiet enough, Mack figured it’d do as a place to sleep. It wasn’t ideal, but then again, nothing was ideal in war. Using a crumpled up cardboard box as a makeshift pillow, he found a nice secluded spot under the window of one of the houses lining the alley, and decided to try and get some sleep. But sleep wouldn’t last long. Just a few moments after he’d closed his eyes, he was startled by the sound of something falling and breaking in the alley, just a few feet from where he was lying down.

On high alert, Mack opened his eyes to find the source of the sound, but he soon relaxed when he saw it was nothing more than a cat trying to find scraps to eat among the trash in the alley. The cat had knocked over something in the pile, and that was the sound Mack heard. But apparently, he hadn’t been the only one who’d heard the noise.

“Who is there?” It was the voice of a young woman. Her sweet and melodic tone would’ve been enough to get him hard with the sex deprivation he was going through while deployed, but it was also laced with fear. The way it made that girl’s voice tremble had Mack’s cock waking up in his pants. Strange to think of sex at a time like this, but then again, that surge of warrior testosterone could turn a man into a wild animal.

“Is anybody out there?” Mack was grateful for all his language training. The woman spoke a dialect of Arabic he was familiar with, so even if he felt her voice coming closer as she walked out of her house and towards the source of the sound, he knew he would at least be able to explain himself.

The moment she noticed him, her eyes widened with fear. Her dupatta wrapped around her head to shield her hair from view, and she held the bottom half up to cover her mouth. Her shy and modest behavior only made her even more attractive to him.

“Who are you?” She was obviously terrified, but she was trying to seem brave. Mack had to respect the fact that she hadn’t immediately ran off to alert her father or her husband.

“I’m a journalist,” he lied, “I’m going to make a documentary about the people in your area, so I’ve been traveling around here for a week. I went out to look at some good filming locations and I got disoriented and couldn’t find my way back.” He obviously couldn’t tell her the truth. As sweet as she looked, she was still potentially on the Taliban side, and she could hand him over to them if she found out who he really was. “I just need a place to spend the night. I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

Mack could only see her eyes, but that was enough to see she was thoughtfully considering his words. He knew the fact that she hadn’t screamed or ran yet meant she was likely to let him be. What he wasn’t expecting were her next words.

“You can come in. I’ll give you a place to sleep.” The woman turned around and started walking back to her house. It took Mack a second of stunned silence to finally get up and follow her inside.

The front door led to a large room where she asked him to wait. He watched her disappear through a door on the other end of the room, and the sounds coming from it told him it must be the kitchen. When she came back, she was holding a large bowl of water, the kind you might see in period movies being used as a makeshift sink.

“Wash your face.” She set the bowl down on a kind of coffee table next to him, and waited for Mack to start. He knew he must’ve been covered in dirt after so many hours running through the desert, and he figured she didn’t want a dirty man in her house.

As he was about to start doing what she’d asked, he suddenly realized the flesh wound on his thigh hadn’t been the only injury he’d sustained in his encounter with the Taliban. His shoulder was sore enough to make washing his own face painful, and though he knew he could grit his teeth through the pain without a problem, she clearly had other plans.

“Allow me.” Her soft, small hands stilled his, and in such close quarters Mack could finally properly appreciate the way the woman looked. Now that she wasn’t covering her face, it was clear she was young—couldn’t have been much older than eighteen. Her deep brown eyes sparkled in the dim light of the room, and her olive skin contrasted with her plump pink lips.

Gently, the woman took a cloth and soaked it in the water. It dripped a little as she put it to Mack’s face, washing away the dirt and the dried sweat from so many hours spent running in the sun. The woman didn’t look into his eyes, but he could tell it was out of respect. She’d been raised to respect men, and everything from the way she moved to the way she touched him made him feel every bit of the power he had over her.

“What’s your name?” Mack asked in her language.

“Nafeesa,” she said softly. Her voice was angelic.

Even her name was beautiful. The fact that she was so different from every woman he’d known back home made her even more attractive to him. Suddenly, the scarf slipped from around her head and fell on the floor. She was wearing a dress, and its neckline sagged just enough to allow him a clear look at her cleavage now that the scarf wasn’t shielding it from view. Mack’s dick hardened in his pants.

A deep blush colored Nafeesa’s cheeks as she scrambled to get the scarf and cover herself once again. Mack had met shy western women before, but Nafeesa was different. Women back home, they’d pretend to be modest only for as long as it took them to get men into bed. It was all an act. They knew men didn’t really have any power over them.

But Nafeesa…she showed real submission in the way she acted. She accepted her role as a submissive woman, and knew Mack was above her as a man. It was a rush of power and want like none he’d ever felt before. She hadn’t even dared ask for his name when she gave him her own.

“You must be hungry.” Nafeesa finished washing his face and put the wet cloth back in the bowl, standing up to take it back to the kitchen. “Let me bring you something to eat.”

He hadn’t even thought about food before. Between running away and then finding a place to sleep, hunger had been the last thing on his mind. But the second she mentioned it, he felt his stomach growl. It was like Nafeesa knew what he needed even before he’d thought to ask for it.

“It’s rice with lamb.” Nafeesa handed him a bowl and waited for him to start eating, which he did with gusto. She was a good cook, and he was hungry enough that he had to make an effort to mind his manners and not wolf the whole thing down immediately.

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