Escort

Author: Sniper Copyright © 2003-2008
Location: Iraq

I was a sniper in the Iraqi army in 1990 and was dispatched to Kuwait after being drafted into the army months before we took Kuwait back. I was assigned to monitor the old Kuwaiti gate area from the Sheraton Hotel roof, a place where a lot of Asians met up as I had been told before the war.

One day, on a shift change, I saw a silver Honda Accord with a flat tyre. As I approached, this Kuwaiti girl, wearing the local black dress, looked somewhat confused. Our eyes crossed and I sort of wanted to help, but she looked somewhat afraid as I had my Dragunov sniper on the back of my shoulder. Anyhow, I asked her if she was okay or if she needed any help. She was afraid, but then she wondered if I could actually fix the tyre. I told her no problem and it would be better for her safety if she would stay in her car while I repaired it. To be honest, it was better that way so that I would be able to lower my long rifle and not worry about it falling in the wrong hands. As I started changing her tyre, our eyes crossed again. She smiled and opened the window to thank me. I sort of felt this sinful attitude in her eyes, so I smiled back.

After I repaired her tyre, she offered me some money. I told her that I couldn’t take it as I was only trying to help a lady. Then we talked a little and she asked me if I was usually posted in this area. I told her that my post was on top of the Sheraton, which had now been a command post for the beach operations from at least most of the floors of the Hotel. This was in September 1990.

Two days later, I see the same car on the main street flashing headlights and beeping, so I asked if I could go down and there she was again. We chatted and we both complained about the war. She turned out to be newly married, just months before the war, to some Kuwaiti guy who was into drugs with a mistress in an area called Hawalli. Things were allegedly not so good between the couple. Her name was Munya. She started to pass by after my shift change every day, and she was kind enough to even get me some sandwiches every now and then. The Army food was really crap. Then my officer started to get annoyed. But it wasn’t too bad.

One day, she invited me to some apartment that she said was her friend’s, and boy it got crazy. We fucked so hard. I don’t think I will ever forget it. I mean she was hot! It went on for some three weeks whenever I could steal some time from my post, every two or three days, to please her. There was this unease of the war situation. I always tried to avoid talking about politics with her, but it sort of worked out. I was then reassigned back to Iraq and exchanged addresses with her, but we never met again.

When I used to live in the U.K. before the war, there were many Kuwaiti chicks hanging out during the London summers looking for Iraqis, or Palestinians, to give them a really good fuck while their Kuwaiti husbands were busy spending all their filthy cash on English escorts. We always picked them up when we were college students from Edgware Road and the upper level restaurants of Whitelees Complex in Queensway. We used to also pick up Omani, U.A.E., Saudi Arabian, and Bahraini girls. But to be honest, the sluttiest were the Kuwaiti girls. Boy they were looking for it!