Pre-deployment

I've gotten a lot of emails asking about my own romantic life...my own sexcapades if you will. Well, one moment in time came to me and I thought I'd share it with you. Enjoy. -MR-

Here's the deal...I am a military wife. I spend more time on my own than I do looking at my husband's face, but I would spend twenty years for fifteen minutes with the right man rather than wait fifteen minutes for twenty years with the wrong one. The truth is, is that sex with my husband, PJ, is fantastic. He knows how to play my body like a finely tuned instrument. He knows when to touch, where to touch, how much is perfect and more. I love married sex. I trust my husband to take care of my needs, to push me and meet me over the abyss and come back to reality safely in his arms. My grandmother always said married sex was worth waiting for and now I know why. Ten years of marriage and even through the fights, the tears, the bills, kids, car payments and more our sex life is still part of the glue that holds us together. It is our reaffirmation of the commitment to our life together. When words just aren't good enough I take him to our bedroom, undress him, and make love to him. All wives know what I mean, but this is about a moment in time that happened nine years ago.

A true sex story from my life with PJ, hope he doesn't shoot me for telling everyone about our sex, but at least he gets his own story with him cast in the starring role.

It was September 11, 2001. The towers had fallen. We were living on Naval Air Station Lemoore, California. It was hot, dusty, but perfect for aviation crews. Almost 364 guaranteed days of flight time. It barely rained, it was hardly ever cold, and God help you if the air conditioner broke. You could sweat ten pounds off in the morning by just sitting there.

Anyway, the call had come in, you know, THE CALL. "Pack your bags, man, we gotta go." I went up to our bedroom and was standing in the walk in closet trying not to cry. I decided that for me, the only way to survive, would be to stay busy. So I was putting clothes away and Pj walked in, "Hey baby, it's okay."
"No, it's not, but it is." I said, "I understand. It's just your job." He put his arms around me and I began to cry. Pj did what only Pj could do, he began to kiss me, kissing my tears as they fell, my mouth when I looked up at him. I began clawing at his clothes. I knew we only had a matter of hours before he was leaving and it was like I needed to be close to him, I needed one last touch, taste to imprint it in my memory for the duration of his absence. Pj gave me what I needed.

He pulled me to the floor in the bedroom closet and stretched his long six foot one frame over my short five feet four inch body and ripped my shirt away from my body and grabbed my shorts off my hips and flung them over his shoulder. I was naked on the carpet in that small walk in closet and he pushed his clothes off and kicked them aside and came to me gloriously naked, hard, and in need of me as much as I needed him. He kissed me everywhere. It's Pj that leaves love bites and bruises during lovemaking. It always happens before he leaves. It's like I need those reminders that he is real, that he was there with me, and I love them. Normally, I'm a slow and gentle kind of girl but when he gets ready to leave and his dog tags are jangling against one another as he packs...all I can think about is more, harder, faster, NOW. I need him always. I want him forever. I don't know that I would ever be able to deny Pj. I don't know that I would ever care to try. It's me, during lovemaking that leaves scratches and blood with my nails, clinging to him. It's me that cries because having him within me, loving me, making the rest of the world fade away is exactly what I need.

So that day on the closet floor with rug burns marking my back and my ass I took Pj and he rode me and it was that day that I had my first climax on my back, 'cause truth be told, I'm an on top kinda girl. But it was like Pj wasn't taking no for an answer. Every once in awhile he refuses to let me be on top, almost like a primitive, "I must remind you that I'm all that is man" kind of way. But this day, I wanted him over top of me. I wanted to look up at him, I wanted him to see me this way, open and in need of his love, his sex. And let me tell you...his body is delicous. Solid, sinewy, large. He has this golden toned skin with a light dusting of hair on his forearms and legs. He always smells so damn good and his calloused roughened hands feel so perfect when he touches me. Afterwards, we laid there breathing hard, our heart rates slowing down and the sweat drying on our bodies, he kissed me and we rose together and took a last shower together and I sat with him while he packed.

PJ's body is even better at this stage of our marriage as he's filled out in that way that only men can. Thicker neck, broader shoulders, you know what I mean. Now, I'm shameless and I would tell you the size, shape, and contours of my husband's beautiful cock, for story purposes not bragging, (LOL) but I'm sure he'd die and demand a rewrite. But I will tell you that he is perfect. I love the size and shape of him, I love his masculine scent. I could just close my eyes during this particular deployment and imagine his scent, the way he looked. It was what sustained me through that particular deployment. And while he's in the field currently, I miss him terribly. And I appreciate the requests for a true story. That one took me back.

Much Love-
MR