Would you engage in some erotic raceplay with Kronii?
I would act like an American soldier while she acts like a helpless and destitute Korean woman whose home was destroyed by the communists.
You pound her vigorously, dick pummeling her pussy like the artillery that obliterated the chinks back at Chosin.
She's yapping away in her alien gook tongue, the language usually grated on your ears, but this particular gook had a really nice voice and hearing her high pitched sexually charged babbling only furthered to inflame your animalistic lust.
You wrap your arms around her slim and hourglass waist, lifting her up as you quicken your tempo. The sound of your cum entering her dark Asian pussy was audible, a sticky like squelch of something squishing soft meat.
You grunt quietly, the bitch's long nails are scratching your back, you can hear her breathy whispers in your ear. You don't understand the words being uttered by her husky voice, but you've spent plenty of time fighting against Japs and Gooks. You're wise enough to know when someone was insulting you in another language.
Her blue eyes stare at you, filled with a mixture of shameful disgust at you fucking her and orgasmic euphoria at the feeling of your American cock filling up her womb.
The both of you reach a crescendo, your bodies starting to feel the oncoming sexual rapture. She braces herself, her once white but now dirty hanbok falling off of her dainty shoulders.
She screams into your chest, her nails dug into the flesh of your back. You bite your tongue, you didn't want to scream out in fear of your NCO hearing you.
You topple over her, nose inside her hair, the two of you breathing deeply as you recover from the orgasm.
You raise your face up, staring into her eyes.
She's crying.
"C-Chocolate..." she says in broken English.
That was the whole point of this sexual encounter, the poor girl wanted a bar of chocolate so she could survive another day.
You take out the confectionary from your right pocket, dick still implanted in her like the American flag on Iwo Jima.
You break the bar in two, giving the larger part to her while you bite into the remainder.
She greedily chews into the dark sweet, she was starving,
The two of you lie down together, on the dirty straw mat, amidst the bombed out remains of the girl's home.
The two of you looking up at the darkening skies through the hole in the roof.
Her head resting on your chest, desperate for any comfort.
Your hand glides over her hair, showing what little affectionate you were capable of.
You unconsciously play with the marriage band in your other pocket, remembering the high school sweetheart you intended to marry after Okinawa, only to find out she had cheated on you.
You look at the girl, young and alone, desperate to survive.
Was it a good idea? You don't know, but fuck you've been fighting for most of your adult life and you were lonely as shit. She was cute and desperate, at worst this was a mutually beneficial exchange and at best you might actually like each other eventually.