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Subject: {ASSM} "Nereids" by Nick Scipio - Ch 7 (MF, oral)
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Author: Nick Scipio
Title: Nereids
Part: Chapter 07
Universe: Summer Camp
Summary: Jack MacLean is happy with married life, but it's the
Swinging Sixties and he wants more. His wife does too,
and they have their eye on her new friend, Beth Hughes.
But Jack and Beth's husband will soon be fighting a war
in the skies over Vietnam. When they return, everything
will change.
Keywords: MF, oral
Revision: 1.5
Word Count: 10,806
Web Site: http://www.nickscipio.com/summercamp/nereids/
FTP Site: ftp://ftp.nickscipio.com/summercamp/nereids/
Discussion Forum: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Scipio_Forum/

*****************************************************************
                        STANDARD DISCLAIMER

This story is intended as ADULT entertainment. It contains
material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. If you are
offended by sexually explicit content or language, please DO NOT
read any further.

This story is a work of fiction. All characters and events
portrayed in it are fictional, and any resemblance to real people
or incidents is purely coincidental. The author does not
necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities described.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without
the written permission of the author, Nick Scipio
(nick_scipio@yahoo.com). It may be freely distributed with this
disclaimer attached.

Copyright (c) 2007 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved.

*****************************************************************

Nereids
A Summer Camp Story
by Nick Scipio

CHAPTER SEVEN

June turned into July, and the _USS Ranger_ began her final line
period. The ship maintained her tempo of operations even as she
neared the end of her deployment. But the atmosphere aboard
changed when July turned into August. Everyone seemed upbeat and
eager. They were all carefully subdued about it, though, since no
one wanted to jinx things at the last moment.

Jack was one of the last pilots to land on the carrier before she
steamed for home. He trapped on the four wire--he'd caught a gust
over the fantail--and taxied forward under the direction of the
yellow-shirt. Jerry Schmidt trapped less than a minute later, the
last of the Warhorses to return to the ship.

Two straggling A-1 Skyraiders landed at forty-five second
intervals behind Jerry, and Jack could almost feel the collective
sigh from the ship's crew. An hour later the sigh turned into a
cheer when the captain announced that the ship had turned for
Subic Bay. From there, they would sail to Yokosuka, Japan. After
Yokosuka, they would make the long Pacific crossing to the good
ol' US-of-A.

Home.

**

"What are you wearing to meet Jack?" Beth asked.

"I don't know yet," Susan said.

Beth shielded her eyes and glanced at her friend. Both of them
had darkened from their time in the sun, and Beth liked how she
looked without tan lines. She smiled wryly--she liked how _Susan_
looked without tan lines, even without the usual triangle of
pubic hair.

After Susan's initial excitement had worn off, she'd discovered a
few problems with shaving. "It _itches_," she'd said with a
grimace. Not only did it itch, but she had to be careful not to
chafe the sensitive skin. Still, she liked the look, and she
liked how it made her feel, so she shaved nearly every day.

Beth had thought about trimming her own bush, but decided not to.
She might defy society in some ways--nude sunbathing? a growing
attraction to another woman? fantasies of three-way sex?
_Scandalous,_ she thought with a silent snort of derision--but in
other ways, she was as normal as any other woman, and "normal"
women had pubic hair.

Susan wasn't _ab_normal, but she was definitely more daring. Beth
still felt a sense of taboo every time she took off her clothes
to sunbathe nude. She still felt the thrill of forbidden pleasure
whenever she snuck a glance at Susan's body. And she still felt a
bit guilty--only a bit, though--whenever she thought about sex
with another woman.

"I thought we'd go shopping tomorrow or Thursday," Susan was
saying as Beth shook off her wandering thoughts. "How's that
sound?"

"That sounds fine."

"I want to buy something that'll really knock Jack's socks off."

"Me too."

"Oh?" Susan said, smirking. "You want to knock Jack's socks off
too?"

Beth felt the usual blush mount her cheeks. Jack was handsome,
but she told herself not to think of her friend's husband "that
way."

Susan grinned and started to say something, but fell silent,
giving Beth a speculative look instead.

**

Shopping with a baby and a toddler wasn't Beth's idea of a good
time. Erin wasn't a problem, but Paul was willful and sullen.
Susan made a game of playing hide-and-seek among the clothing
racks, though, and he eventually quit sulking.

"Kirk, Doug," Susan said at last, "why don't you take Paul to the
toy department. Here's a quarter," she added, "so you can buy gum
at the lunch counter. Buy some for Paul too."

Beth smiled as Paul's eyes lit up.

"Okay, Mom," Kirk said.

With that, the three boys headed across the department store,
leaving Susan, Beth, and Erin in a sea of relative calm.

"Thanks," Beth said.

"Don't mention it. Doug used to be the same way. He'd mope and
whine about going shopping, so I quickly learned to bribe him. I
don't let the boys have gum at home, so a piece of Bazooka does
wonders when we're out."

"No kidding."

Susan laughed. "I'm probably a terrible mother, but I refuse to
argue with a three-year-old. They'll drag you down to their level
and beat you with experience."

Erin blinked in surprise as the two women laughed.

"So instead of arguing," Susan said, "I simply redirect his
attention. Works every time."

"_I'll_ say."

"It's one of those tricks you learn with boys," Susan said. "I
don't know a _thing_ about raising girls, though, so you're on
your own with Erin."

"Oh, I think I'll manage."

Susan smiled warmly. She started to say something else, but then
her eyes lit up. "Ooooh," she said, "look at this." She held up a
pale yellow sundress.

"Wow, that _is_ nice," Beth said. Then she frowned. "But isn't it
too big through the bust?"

"It's not for _me_," Susan said. "It's for you!"

"Me?"

"Of course. I can't wear this color. Not with my hair and
complexion. But _you_, on the other hand, Miss Bleach Blonde--"

"Unh!" Beth cried. "I don't bleach!"

"You might as well," Susan said, smiling to take the edge off her
words. "One day in the sun and you're dark bronze with perfect
golden hair."

"It wasn't _one_ day," Beth muttered.

"It might as well have been. I couldn't get as dark as you even
if I lay out for months." She shrugged. "I just have fairer skin.
I _like_ my complexion, but I still can't wear a light yellow
dress. And look," she added, "these flowers on the bodice will
pick out the blue in your eyes."

Beth gave the dress an appraising look.

"If you get a satin ribbon to tie under your breasts, it'll make
them look bigger too."

Beth quickly looked around to see if anyone had overheard.

"David's a breast man, right?"

"Susan!"

"Well, he is. And you've got fantastic breasts, so make the most
of 'em. He'll have to limp down the gangway when he sees you."

"Susan!"

Susan smirked. "I wonder... If David's as well-hung as you say he
is, you might not want to wear this dress."

"Why not?" Beth asked, suddenly confused.

"He might pass out from lack of blood."

She felt her face blaze with heat.

"Well... he might."

"Can we change the subject?" she asked feebly.

"We can talk about Jack's dick."

Beth made a strangled noise.

"It might not be as big as David's, but I'm _more_ than happy
with it. Besides, you know what they say: 'It's not the size of
the tool, but how you use it.'"

"Susan MacLean!"

"Well, it's true."

"Is that all you think about?" Beth asked.

Susan shrugged, unabashed. "It's been almost nine months since I
got laid. My fantasies are starting to have fantasies of their
own."

Beth found herself laughing in spite of her embarrassment.

"Aren't you horny too?"

"Of course I am, but..."

"But what?"

"But..." Beth searched for an answer but ended up rolling her eyes
instead. "You're incorrigible."

Susan nodded smugly. "Yes, thank you, I am. Now, let's find a
changing room. I want to see how this dress looks on you."

Beth felt a rush of heat through her cheeks for an entirely
different reason.

**

Beth tried on several other dresses, but she eventually bought
the yellow one. Susan tried on more than a dozen, and finally
decided on a salmon-colored dress with a white summer-weight
sweater.

"With your dress," Susan said, "you can go braless."

"I was planning to," Beth admitted, grinning and blushing. At
Susan's suggestion she'd also bought a length of broad satin
ribbon. It would certainly make her breasts look bigger, but it
would also accentuate her hourglass figure and trim stomach. She
didn't need any help in the breast department, but she definitely
wanted to show off her flat tummy.

"I want to go braless, too," Susan continued, "and the sweater
will keep me from causing a scandal with the other wives.
Besides, I like the idea of greeting Jack wearing only a dress
and a sweater."

"You don't mean..."

"Of course I do," Susan said. "Don't tell me you were planning on
wearing panties."

"Well, I was _thinking_ about it," Beth said half-sarcastically.
"It is the thing to do these days, you know."

Susan waved a dismissive hand. "I want to tease Jack on the drive
home. It's tough to do that with panties on."

"You really are shameless, aren't you?"

"Only where certain people are concerned."

Beth had the sudden impression that _she_ fell into the category
of "certain people," and she blushed deeper still.

"If I can't be myself around you and Jack, then... well... then life
wouldn't be worth living!"

Beth grimaced for effect.

"I'm serious," Susan said. "I like not having to worry about
being condemned for who I am."

"I'd never do that."

"I know," Susan said softly. "That's why I can't imagine life
without you. Or Jack, of course. He takes me as I am. He always
has. David will too, I'm sure."

Beth nodded.

"If he was smart enough to fall in love with a woman like you,
then he's all right."

"Thank you," Beth said quietly.

"You know," Susan said, her mood suddenly enthusiastic, "we
should do something together when the guys get back. Go on a
vacation or something."

"That'd be nice."

"Just the four of us."

Beth felt a sudden pang at the thought of leaving Erin. She
didn't want to leave Paul either, but he wasn't still a baby.

"My father could stay with the boys," Susan continued, "and your
mother could fly out to babysit Paul and Erin."

Beth nodded, but she felt uncertain.

"It's just a thought," Susan said, curbing her enthusiasm.

Beth pasted on her fake smile.

Susan saw right through it. "Maybe in a couple of months," she
said, "when Erin's older."

"That'd be better."

"Sometimes I forget what it's like with a baby," Susan said. Then
she shrugged. "It's something to think about, though."

Beth nodded, wishing she felt more adventurous. She didn't like
disappointing her friend, but she didn't like the idea of leaving
her baby daughter, either.

"So," Susan said, changing the subject, "have you thought any
more about meeting David without panties? He'll get a real thrill
out of it, I'm sure."

Beth rolled her eyes, grateful for Susan's aplomb.

"I'm serious. No one will know but him--and _me_, of course--and
it'll drive him crazy. It'd drive _me_ crazy, that's for sure."

Beth noticed that Susan didn't add the semi-obligatory "if I were
a man."

"And with your legs... in that dress...," Susan continued.

Beth merely listened, the hint of a smile crossing her lips. She
didn't know if she'd have the courage to meet David sans
underwear, but she definitely enjoyed listening to Susan try to
convince her.

**

Erin wrapped her hands around Beth's fingers and used the
leverage to pull herself up. She stood on unsteady legs.

"Look at you!" Beth cooed.

Erin grinned and took a tottering step, still supported by Beth's
fingers.

The phone rang.

Beth made a happy, surprised face. "It's the telephone! Who do
you think it could it be?"

Erin looked toward the sound of the ringing. Then she sat down
abruptly.

"Here you go," Beth said, holding out a teething ring. "You play
with your ring while Mommy answers the telephone."

Erin reached for the ring and immediately put it in her mouth.

"I'm coming," Beth said to the phone as she stood. She kept an
eye on Erin and answered on the fifth ring. "Hello?"

"Hi, sweetheart."

She frowned. "Who is thi--?" Her eyes flew wide. "_David?_"

"Affirmative," he said. His voice sounded metallic and distant.

"Where are you?"

"On the ship. I can't tell you exactly where we are, but..." He
laughed at himself. "What do I know? I don't have a _clue_ where
we are."

She heard good-natured chuckles in the background.

"But listen," he continued, "I can't talk long. And don't say
anything you don't want the guys in the radio shack to hear."

"Okay."

"I normally wouldn't fly a plane for the squadron fly-in, since
I'm too junior. But Commander Scarlatti has me listed as a new
dad."

Beth nodded to herself. "New dads" were men whose babies were
born while the carrier was at sea. When the ship returned, they
had the privilege of coming ashore before anyone else. Among the
squadrons, where the senior pilots flew home a day ahead of the
carrier itself, the new dads landed first. Erin _hadn't_ been
born while the ship was on cruise, but Beth wasn't going to
complain if Don Scarlatti wanted to bend the rules.

"Larry Reiter's wife is with her sick mother," David continued,
"and Ed Cousins is a bachelor, so they offered to let me and Bob
Weigand take their planes. So, can you meet me at the base on
Wednesday?"

Beth's heart raced. She'd been planning to drive to Alameda on
Wednesday, to spend the night and meet the ship on Thursday. But
the thought of seeing David a day earlier filled her with sudden
impatience. She had a hundred things to do before then.

"Honey?"

She heard the uncertainty in his voice, and it broke her train of
thought. "Yes!" she blurted. "I'll be there with bells on!"

Tinny laughter erupted in the background of the call.

"Well," David said, "you don't have to wear bells."

"I'll be there," she said again, quickly.

"Good," he said. "I can't wait to see you and the kids. But I've
gotta sign off. Bob has to call his wife."

"I love you," she said, heedless of who might hear. When David
hesitated for a moment, she imagined him in the midst of the men
in the radio room. She didn't care. He was coming home!

"I love you too," he said at last. Stronger: "I can't wait to see
you. But I gotta go, sweetheart. Bob just got here to make his
call, and we can't tie up the radio forever. I'll see you
Wednesday. I love you. Bye."

She hung up and suddenly felt faint. David was coming home! It
hardly seemed real. Nine long months, and her wait was over.

**

Jack's first glimpse of the US wasn't very inspiring: a haze of
clouds advertising the unseen land beneath them. As the squadron
flew east, a sliver of brown rose from the ocean and became
California. They made landfall over Big Sur, the black ribbon of
the Pacific Coast Highway stretching away in either direction.

Jack checked the folded chart on his kneeboard--it looked so
unfamiliar, without names like Hanoi, Haiphong, and Thanh Hoa--
and did a quick calculation. One hundred nautical miles, give or
take, from Big Sur to Lemoore. The skipper wasn't sparing
Secretary McNamara's fuel, either--the squadron was cruising at
nearly 450 knots.

Once over land, they started descending, and Scarlatti called for
them to tighten their formation. Jack fixed his eyes on Commander
Featherston's plane and slowly eased closer. The Old Man wouldn't
call for _really_ tight formation flying until they were four or
five minutes out, and much closer to the deck.

The air over California was hot and full of thermals, which
buffeted the light A-4s. Jack concentrated on Featherston's
aircraft, making minor adjustments with stick and throttle,
maintaining his separation.

"All right, Warhorses," Scarlatti called when they reached a
thousand feet, "tighten up. Let's show 'em why they give us all
the glory."

"Sierra Hotel!" someone called, probably Ed Cousins.

_Shit Hot,_ Jack translated, chuckling to himself.

"Boy, my fun meter is pegged," someone broke in, his voice
laconic.

"All right," Commander Waulk said coolly, "secure the chatter."

"How do we look, Doodle?" Scarlatti asked Lieutenant Commander
Young.

As the squadron Maintenance Officer, Young was flying the hangar
queen, since _he_ knew what parts it was missing. Earlier in the
day Jack had silently chuckled as he'd watched Young preflight
the ejection seat _twice_ before climbing into the cockpit. Since
Young was the most junior of the squadron's four senior officers,
he was also leading the three-plane flight at the rear of their
diamond formation. Consequently, he was in the best position to
judge their intervals.

"Tighten up, Smooth," Young said to Cousins. "You too, Jerry."

Jack glanced away from Featherston's plane and watched Jerry out
of the corner of his eye. He was flying "the slot," the rear
point of their four-plane diamond. He eased forward, the nose of
his jet below and behind Featherston's tailpipe.

Jack listened idly as Scarlatti talked with the air traffic
controller, getting final clearance for the fly-by.

"All right, everyone," the Old Man said a minute later, "this is
it. Coming up on the runway..."

The formation tightened as the pilots dressed their lines,
double-checking their separations. Jack kept his eyes glued to
Featherston's starboard wingtip, a dozen feet ahead and to the
left.

"Over the threshold...," Scarlatti announced.

Jack imagined the crowd below, shading their eyes against the
noonday sun as they watched the tight formation fly over.

Featherston's plane rocked as it flew through an updraft, and
Jack automatically adjusted with stick and rudder. Formation
flying was tough work, and the seconds seemed endless.

"And we're past," Scarlatti said at last. "Break on my mark... by
the numbers, gentlemen."

Jack waited, his concentration wholly absorbed by Featherston's
wingtip.

"Ready...," Scarlatti called. "_Break!_"

Jack held his position while the pilots to his left rolled out of
formation and into the break turn, pulling hard Gs through ninety
degrees. He was flying on the far right of the formation, so he
would break last. The wait stretched into an eternity, but was
probably only twenty seconds.

"Twelve," Jerry called at last, a delta-shaped flash of wings in
the corner of Jack's eye.

Jack counted two heartbeats.

"Nine," Featherston called, rolling vertical.

Another two heartbeats and then Jack called, "Eleven." G-forces
crushed him into his seat. He grunted and watched his compass.
Finally, he rolled horizontal at the end of his turn.

As new dads, David, Bob Weigand, and Jerry Schmidt landed first.
The rest of the pilots landed in reverse order of seniority,
although David and the others held short on the taxiway. It was
their way of showing respect for Commander Scarlatti, of giving
him the honor of leading the planes to the ramp area.

Jack snuck a glance and saw a crowd of people gathered by the
squadron hangar. Shore Patrolmen held them in line, but the
families in the crowd knew not to stray onto the parking ramp
itself.

The sun blazed through the canopy and Jack realized that he was
sweating. He wanted to search for Susan and the boys, but he had
to concentrate on taxiing. He gazed at the plane ahead of him--a
mirage of heat blasted from the tailpipe, adding to the
shimmering waves coming from the tarmac itself.

Time seemed to drag out, and Jack felt impatient as he turned and
parked his plane. He scanned the crowd as he went through the
routine of shutting down the engine.

A furnace blast of air hit him as the canopy whined upward. It
wasn't as humid as Vietnam, he thought, but it was just as hot.
His eyes were still scanning the crowd as he climbed over the
canopy rail.

The SPs had let immediate family members past the rope barrier,
and Jack saw a woman in a white and pink dress running toward
him. Two boys raced along beside her.

Susan!

He ran toward her and swept her into his arms. She felt light as
a feather as he swung her around, her clean scent fresh in his
nostrils.

He lost track of time. He hugged and kissed her. He swept the
boys into his arms and whisked them from their feet. He set them
down after a time and pulled Susan close. He knelt and held them
all, wishing his arms were longer. Susan was crying tears of joy
and relief, months of built-up emotion released in minutes.

**

Beth ushered Paul under the rope when the uniformed man lifted it
for them. Then she ducked under herself, Erin held close. She
spotted David at once--she knew his gestures, his walk.

He still looked bewildered, scanning the crowd.

"David!" she yelled, waving.

He heard the sound and looked at her. Then his eyes widened in
recognition and he sprinted toward her. He looked awkward in his
G-suit, but he could've been wearing a suit of medieval armor for
all that she cared.

She reached for Paul and made sure he stayed close. He'd been
worried all day, worried that his father might not remember him.
She'd told him, "Of _course_ Daddy remembers you." She was a
little worried herself, though, but when David crouched, Paul ran
to him. David scooped the boy into a toss that ended with Paul in
his arms.

Beth hugged herself to David's side a moment later, careful to
avoid crushing Erin. He smelled of spicy cologne and sweat and
jet fuel.

She held him close and buried her face in his chest, heedless of
the heat and stifling closeness. Finally, she smiled up at him,
tears stinging her eyes.

"Welcome home," she said.

**

Jack slid behind the wheel of Susan's station wagon and then
smiled at her. Behind them, Kirk and Doug were being
rambunctious, vying for his attention.

Susan turned. "Sit down, boys. I know you're excited that Dad's
home, but you can't hang over the front seat while he's driving."

Jack chuckled to himself at the looks on their faces. "Kirk," he
said, "reach into the back and open my flight bag. Pull out the
two green packages--and _only_ the green packages."

The boys' faces lit up at the thought of presents.

"There's one for each of you," Jack added. He and Susan turned in
their seats to watch.

The boys tore open the presents and marveled at the Japanese
character-writing on the boxes. The symbols may have been
unfamiliar, but the pictures were universal, and the boys
immediately opened the boxes to get at the transistor radios
inside.

"What do you say?" Susan reminded gently.

"Thanks, Dad," Kirk and Doug chorused, wholly absorbed by the
Japanese instructions.

Jack grinned to himself and started the car. Then his grin turned
sly and he looked sidelong at Susan.

She caught his look and arched an eyebrow.

"I've got something for you too," he said, "but it's for later."

"Not _too_ much later, I hope."

He had a hard time concentrating during the drive home. Susan had
opened her sweater, exposing her cleavage. Her nipples were hard,
and she wasn't wearing a bra. She'd also tugged her skirt up,
revealing her smooth, tanned legs. At the thought of what lay
_between_ them, Jack felt his dick swell.

She'd been tantalizing him for weeks about her shaved pussy, but
she'd refused to send a Polaroid. "I'm saving it for when you get
home," she'd said.

Well, he was home, and he wanted to see it.

As if on cue, she casually turned to face him, one thigh resting
on the seat. She looked nonchalant, but Jack knew that she was
putting on a show. In the backseat, the boys were still engrossed
with the radios, so he rested a hand on her knee.

She flashed him a devilish smile. She could be a shameless tease
when she wanted to, especially when she knew he couldn't do
anything about it. She casually tugged her dress higher,
revealing the soft swell of her thigh.

Jack drove with one eye on the road and one eye on his wife. She
languidly trailed one finger along her inner thigh, as if
inviting his eyes to follow. The pink dress bunched around her
hips and she made sure the boys were still preoccupied. They
were, so she flipped the dress up and Jack caught his first
glimpse of her smooth pussy. He tried to get a better look and
almost swerved off the road.

She smirked at him.

Images of the Turkish girls flashed through his mind, and his
dick grew harder still. But the Turkish girls were merely a
summer conquest--Susan was his _wife_.

He tried to keep his eyes on the road, but they were drawn to the
passenger seat, to her smooth pussy. Her labia were tanned a
light brown, the slit a darker line between them. He reached
between her legs and felt her, teasing her with his fingertips.

She stifled a gasp, her eyes drooping closed in pleasure. He felt
a bead of moisture and spread it over her slit. Her pussy lips
parted and he spread her moisture, acutely aware of the absence
of hair. His dick swelled insistently, trapped by his tight
underwear and flight suit. He looked up and tried to remember how
close they were to home. Then he glanced at the speedometer.

_Less than a mile to the house,_ he judged. _Two minutes till we
hit the driveway... a minute and a half to unload the car... a minute
to send the boys outside... thirty seconds to shuck my flight suit...
I don't even have to take off Susan's panties..._ He quickly did
the math. _Five minutes,_ he thought impatiently. _Five minutes
till I get the first nookie I've had in nine months._

He almost laughed in frustration--five minutes would seem longer
than nine months had!

**

Beth lifted Erin from the car seat and glanced toward the trunk.
Paul wanted to help his daddy carry things inside, and Beth
almost laughed at David's look of fear as the boy reached for his
flight helmet. Instead, David let him help with his flight bag--
practically indestructible--and Paul earnestly gripped one of the
handles.

Beth smiled at the two of them: Paul, serious and trying to act
grown-up; David, trying futilely to match his son's gravity. Once
inside, she had to suppress a grin as Paul consciously imitated
David by stretching the kinks from his muscles.

"Paul, why don't you show Daddy the Tonka trucks Grandma and
Grandpa gave you for your birthday?" Beth suggested. They were in
his room, and it would take him a minute to get them out of the
toy box. She wanted some time alone with David.

Paul grinned with three-year-old enthusiasm and raced off. Beth
set Erin on the carpet and gave her the teething ring. Then she
stood and moved close to David.

"I did something naughty," she said, standing on tiptoe to bring
her lips close to his ear.

He looked a question at her.

"I'm not wearing panties."

His eyebrows shot up.

She took his hand and slid it under her dress. She swallowed hard
as his fingers brushed her thigh and then ticked her pubic hair.
At the thought of pubic hair, she wondered about Jack. Susan had
been teasing him for weeks, peppering her letters with comments
about her "new 'do."

David's fingertips brushed Beth's hooded clit and she forgot
about Susan entirely. Instead, she closed her eyes and savored
the insistent pressure as he spread her growing moisture. She
gasped when he slid a finger between her labia. Her mouth watered
at the thought of sucking him, and she could feel his hardness
through his flight suit.

"Do you want to take a shower when I put the kids down for their
naps?" she asked, struggling to control her desire.

"When will that be?"

She tried to concentrate. It was hard to do with his finger on
her clit.

"Soon?"

She gathered her wits and shook her head. Then she looked at her
watch. "At least an hour."

"What if I don't want to wait that long?"

"_I_ don't want to wait that long," she said. "But we have to."

"Then why'd you tell me you weren't wearing panties?"

"I wanted to make sure you were interested."

He barked a short, soft laugh. "I could pound nails right now."

"Why don't you just pound _me_ instead."

"Can we slip into the bedroom...?"

"Do you want a quickie? I could--"

He shook his head. "No, I want to take our time."

Reluctantly--_very_ reluctantly--she pulled away and smoothed her
skirt. "Then we need to wait," she said.

"Can't Paul watch Erin?"

"Paul's _three_," she said. "No, he can't watch Erin."

David gave her a skeptical look.

"Men," she chided softly.

"It's not _my_ fault," he said. Then he gestured at her, his eyes
smoldering. "If you didn't look so good, I wouldn't be in the
state I'm in."

Beth felt her insides go molten, and it took all her willpower
not to throw herself at him.

"I'm serious, Beth," he said, trying to undermine her resolve,
"you look sexier than ever. Better than the blue dress, even."

She swallowed hard.

He stepped closer, his body hot and hard against hers.

"We can't," she said feebly. She inhaled the scent of him. Her
breathing grew shallow and she felt her face flush. "When I put
the kids down for their naps," she said at last. "Okay?"

Fortunately, Paul saved her--he raced into the living room and
tugged David's hand. "Come see, Daddy. I got a bulldozer and a
dump truck and..."

**

"I thought I'd fix lunch before the boys go play outside," Susan
said.

Jack stifled a growl of frustration.

"Can we have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Mom?" Kirk
asked.

Doug agreed with a hopeful smile.

"Sure," Susan said.

Jack changed into a comfortable shirt and shorts while she fixed
lunch. He needed a shower, but he wanted to wait till he didn't
have to take it alone. He joined the boys at the dining room
table. They happily told him about friends, bicycles, television
shows, and anything else that came to mind.

He felt himself relaxing for the first time in months. The sights
of home, the sounds of home--even the smells of home--were
familiar and _un_familiar, welcoming and foreign. He sensed
familiar things as if for the first time, in sharp detail. Susan
teased him with a look, but he merely smiled.

Eventually, the boys went out to play with their friends--they
wanted to show off their radios. Susan shooed them along with a
maternal smile, but then flashed a sultry look as soon as the
door closed behind them.

Jack gestured her toward him, and she sat on his lap. Her arm
circled his neck and he drew her close for a kiss. Her lips felt
softer than anything he could remember, and sweet, with a hint of
peanut butter that made him smile. He rested his hand on her bare
leg and then slid it up her thigh.

She broke the kiss and glanced down, her eyes sparkling
playfully. "Where does he think _he's_ going?"

"Where do you think?" Jack asked roguishly. He continued moving
his hand up her thigh, but at a slower pace. He could tease too,
when he put his mind to it.

Susan's eyebrows rose. _Oh?_ she asked silently.

He spread her legs.

She let him, her eyes dancing expectantly. Then she grinned. "Did
you bring me a radio too?"

He shook his head.

"Then what _did_ you bring me?"

"You'll see..."

"When?"

He shrugged as indifferently as he could.

"Do you want me to guess?"

"If you'd like," he said.

"Animal, vegetable, or mineral?"

He paused theatrically, before saying, "Animal."

"Is it smaller than a breadbox?"

"Yes."

"What color is it?" she said, grinning. "Is it... _pink?_"

"Mmm hmm."

"Is it... long?"

He grinned smugly. "Long enough."

"Is it... hard?"

"Very," he said.

"So when do I get to see it?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. I'm trying to think of the right time to
give it to you."

"Can you give it to me several times?" she asked disingenuously.

"If you'd like."

"Oh, I'd like. When?"

He tugged the shoulder strap of her dress and pulled it over her
tanned arm. Then he did the same with the other strap. "How about
now?" he said.

She reached behind her back and he heard the hiss of a zipper.
She leaned in to kiss him and he pulled the dress down. It
bunched at her waist and he caressed her bare back as they
kissed. Her skin felt warm under his hands, soft and smooth. They
were both breathless when they finally broke the kiss.

"Stand up," he said. He tugged the dress over her hips and she
kicked it away. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it
aside. Then he stood to take off his shorts. With a grin, he
scooped her into his arms.

She shrieked in surprise. "What are you doing?"

Instead of answering, he walked into the kitchen and set her on
the counter. His erection bumped the cabinet as he leaned forward
to kiss her. She responded eagerly, her fingers light on his arms
as he held her hips.

He wanted to fuck her--_Nine_ long _months,_ he thought--but he
wanted to taste her shaved pussy even more. He broke the kiss and
spread her legs wider. Then he knelt in front of her and put his
hands on her inner thighs. Her slit glistened with moisture.

His cheeks brushed her thighs as he moved in. She scooted toward
him at his insistent tug. He flicked his tongue and made her
gasp. He grinned to himself as she gripped his head, holding him
close.

He spread her labia with his fingers, inhaling the musky scent of
her arousal, feeling the warmth of her thighs on his face. His
lips met the smooth skin of her pussy a moment later, his tongue
delving into her, tasting the tang of her juices.

She gasped again when he flicked the hood of her clit. Her gasp
turned into a moan as he began licking her, his chin damp with
her moisture. He buried his nose against her soft skin. It took
him a half-second to realize that he liked her without pubic
hair. Her bush wouldn't tickle his nose as he went down on her.
He wouldn't get hair in his mouth, either.

With a grin, he stopped thinking and simply enjoyed himself, his
tongue working along her slit, teasing her. He flicked her clit
and then sucked, sending shivers through her thighs. She moaned
low and deep in her throat, her hips rocking in time with his
tongue.

When he finally pulled back, his cheeks felt cool from the
moisture. Then his skin began to tighten as her juices dried. He
stood and kissed her, and she responded with passionate
intensity.

Unlike many of the women Jack had been with, Susan _liked_ the
taste of her own pussy. She liked the taste of other pussies too,
he thought with a grin.

After a moment she pulled back, her eyes ablaze. "I want to suck
you," she said.

Instead of answering aloud, he shook his head, lifted her off the
counter, and set her on her feet. Then he turned her around and
bent her over the countertop. She groaned when he gripped her
hips and eased his cock between her legs.

Heat and moisture bathed the head of his dick. He pulled back and
angled his hips. Then he slid into her. He closed his eyes and
savored the sensations as her pussy gripped him. He wanted to
watch his dick enter her, to see it part her smooth labia. He
wanted to watch his shaft slide in and out as he fucked her. But
her pussy felt so good that he wasn't willing to pull out and
move to the bedroom.

He began thrusting, his hips slapping her ass, filling the
kitchen with the sounds of their sex. Her back swayed with each
thrust, the muscles of her shoulders flexing as they absorbed the
shock of his body slamming into hers. He fucked her steadily,
with long thrusts that made her cry out. The first twinges of
orgasm had just begun to tingle in his balls when the front door
burst open.

"Mom!" Kirk yelled.

They looked up in shock, their bodies still joined.

"Stay here," Susan panted, pulling herself out from under him.

His dick slid out of her with a wet sucking sound and she threw
an apologetic look over her shoulder as she headed to intercept
their son.

"Mom!" Kirk shouted. "Can we...? Oh."

Jack could imagine the look on Kirk's face when he saw his
mother's nudity.

"What's going on?" Kirk asked.

"We thought we'd have a nudist dinner," Susan said calmly. "Like
we do at Granddad's house."

"Oh," Kirk said. "Neat."

Jack marveled at her quick thinking. He was still breathing hard
from the effort of fucking her, but she was talking as if nothing
were amiss, as if her nudity was an everyday occurrence. He
grinned wryly--to her, it _was_ an everyday occurrence. She'd
grown up a nudist, and he sometimes had to remind himself that
there was nothing wrong with it.

"Where's Doug?" Susan asked from the front room.

"Oh, yeah," Kirk said, as if suddenly remembering why he'd
returned home. "Can Doug and I go play at the--?"

"'May,'" she interrupted. "_May_ Doug and I go play..."

Jack bit back a laugh at her automatic correction.

"Sorry," Kirk said. "May Doug and I go play at the Valencourts'?
Their dad just got home too. They got these neat little pinball
machine things, and we wanna show 'em our radios."

Carl Valencourt was a pilot in the Warhorses' sister squadron,
VA-146.

"Is it okay with Mrs. Valencourt?" Susan asked.

"Uh-huh. Billy Galloway's goin' over there too. And his little
brother. So there'll be a bunch of us."

"Okay," Susan said to Kirk. "Be home by six so you can get washed
up for dinner."

"Thanks, Mom," he said. The front door slammed behind him a
moment later.

Susan rounded the corner into the kitchen and tried not to
chuckle at Jack's appearance.

He looked down at himself. He was still hard--_very_ hard--and he
must have looked anxious. _How am I supposed to look?_ he thought
a little irritably. _There's no place to hide in here. What was I
supposed to do if Kirk had come in?_

"I'm sorry," Susan said, reading him perfectly. "It's just..." She
stifled a giggle and gestured helplessly at him. After a moment
she composed herself. "Would you like to go to the bedroom?" she
asked, almost contritely.

"Can we lock the door?"

"We can do anything you want," she soothed.

"_Any_thing?"

Her eyes sparkled. "Anything."

**

Beth rubbed Paul's back and listened patiently as he talked. His
father's return had him excited, and he didn't want to take a
nap. So Beth was letting him talk himself to sleep. He'd been
going strong for nearly ten minutes, though, about all sorts of
things.

"I'll probably need more blocks," he said matter-of-factly,
changing the subject. Again.

Beth hid a smile and said, "More? You just got some for your
birthday."

"More," Paul said seriously. "I wanna build a house for Daddy and
my new planes..."

David had brought him a set of toy airplanes from Japan.

"...and I don't have enough blocks for that. Mom? How long till my
next birthday?"

"Almost ten months," she said.

"Is that a long time?"

"Mmm hmm."

"How long till Christmas?"

"Not so long," she said. "Only four months."

"That's not so bad," he said, sounding exactly like Beth herself.

She smiled at the thought. Then she glanced at her watch. Her
insides were practically molten with desire, but she suppressed
the urge and paid attention to her son.

"I should ask Santa to bring me some blocks," he said. "And maybe
some of those logs... the kind Kirk and Doug have."

"Lincoln Logs?"

"Uh-huh. I could build a cabin for me and Dad."

"Mmm hmm."

"Is he going to stay with us long?"

Beth suppressed a pang of regret. "Of course," she said. "He
lives here."

"Oh."

Unfortunately, when the Navy said "Jump," Lieutenant JG David
Hughes would have to jump, and ask "How high?" after the fact.

"But how long is he going to _stay?_" Paul pressed.

"For a long time," Beth half-lied. "Now, let's play a game," she
said. "Why don't you see how long you can go without asking a
question. I'll time you, okay?"

He managed to last ten seconds before asking, "How long has it
been?"

"Not very long," Beth said. Mildly reproachful: "And that was a
question."

"Sorry."

"Try again."

He lasted twenty-two seconds.

"You're getting better," she said. "Ready to try again?"

He nodded and then yawned.

Beth sighed in relief and gazed at her watch. "Okay, _go_."
_This_ time, she counted quietly, "One... two... three... four... five..."

At twenty seconds, she began counting by fives. At one minute,
she congratulated him and kept counting, her voice a steady
metronome of encouragement. A minute later his eyes began to
droop. He mumbled something, but she gently stroked his temple
and continued her count, her voice soft and soothing. Finally, he
closed his eyes and they stayed closed. She waited until his
breathing grew regular.

She smoothed his hair and gazed down at him. _He looks so much
like his father._

At the thought of David, she almost stood. But Paul was so
peaceful that she stayed by him, simply enjoying the quiet. After
a moment she kissed his forehead and stood. When he didn't stir,
she left the room and quietly shut the door behind her.

David was waiting for her in the living room. He'd changed into
comfortable clothes and was sitting in his chair with the
newspaper. Her step faltered when she saw his stormy expression.
He folded the paper and tried to look happy to see her. He wasn't
a good actor.

She knew him well enough to realize that he was upset about
something he'd read, rather than something she'd done (or _not_
done). She also realized that he wasn't in the mood anymore, so
she pasted on her fake smile and hid her disappointment.

"Paul's excited that you're home," she said, trying to sound
normal. "He was telling me about the cabin he wants to build for
you two."

At the mention of his son, David's expression changed entirely.
He smiled, and Beth felt her heart leap. It was the same smile
she'd fallen in love with, half cocky, half bemused. He set the
paper aside and gestured for her to sit on his lap.

She rested her head on his shoulder and felt his tension ease as
she hugged him. He'd lost weight. She could feel it in his chest
and arms. His stomach was too hard beneath his shirt, and his
cheeks looked hollow.

His letters hadn't told her much about combat, but she could read
between the lines. He didn't eat enough when he was under stress.
He'd done the same thing in college, losing fifteen pounds during
one especially tough quarter. She hoped to fatten him up with her
cooking and a relaxed home life. But first, she wanted to take
care of more immediate needs--his and hers both.

"How long will the kids be asleep?" he asked, as if sensing her
mood.

"A couple of hours."

He nodded.

"Do you want to...?"

He shook his head. "Not yet."

She looked a question at him. He shrugged, and she felt a
momentary jolt of anxiety.

"It's not that I don't want to," he said slowly, searching for
words. "But..." He shrugged again. "I guess I don't want to rush
things."

"We can wait," she said softly, although she wanted anything but.

"I don't want that, either." He laughed, more at himself than
anything else.

"What?"

"I still can't believe I'm home..."

Beth frowned at the non sequitur.

"It's the same place I remember, but it's not. Does that make
sense? It's like my memory is black and white, but the real place
is Technicolor. It's almost... surreal."

She laid her hand on his chest.

"On the ship, all I could think about was home."

"And now that you're home, you think about the ship?" she
wondered, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice.

He shook his head, almost angrily. Then he grew thoughtful.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head again, although he looked sad more than
anything else. He chuckled apologetically.

"What?"

"I almost said, 'You wouldn't understand,' but that's probably
the most insulting thing I could say. It's not _your_ fault you
can't understand."

"Understand what? Try me."

"The ship... Vietnam... It's a different place. I don't want to bring
it home with me."

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

He snorted softly.

"You don't," she insisted, unsure what else to say.

"Yes, I do. I can't help it. I _want_ to leave it behind, but I
can't."

She wanted to ask "Why not?" but she bided her time. She knew
he'd answer the question in his own time.

"The men who plan the war...," he said slowly, deliberately,
"McNamara and the rest... they don't know what they're doing. And
they try to sell their propaganda to _us_, as if we don't know
what's really going on. Worse, they're a bunch of Ivy League
know-it-alls, not fighting men." He scoffed. "None of _them_ have
ever seen the elephant."

Beth didn't know what the phrase meant, but she understood its
implication.

"They're more worried about numbers than results," David
continued. "I talked to an F-105 pilot who--and I swear to God
this is true--who flew a mission with _one bomb_. I'm not
kidding. His squadron had eight bombs left in the depot, but they
needed to fly eight sorties to meet their quota. _One_ plane
could carry all eight bombs, but that would only count as one
sortie. So they hung one bomb on each plane and flew their
mission.

"They risked eight guys' lives just for some bean-counter quota,"
he said. "I'd like to send Secretary McNamara into Route Pack Six
with one bomb. We'll see how long _he_ lasts. Or let him attack a
'suspected ammo dump' and see if he isn't pissed off that he just
risked his life to obliterate a patch of worthless jungle. And
don't even get me started on their dumbshit Rules of Engagement..."

Beth didn't know what to say, so she did the only thing she
could--she held him and reassured him with the comfort of her
body.

"The newspapers talk about what a good job we're doing," David
said, "but they don't talk about what it costs, or the utter
stupidity of the armchair generals running things from
Washington, playing God with men's lives." He took a deep breath.

"Ah, hell," he said at last. "What do I know? I'm just a
lieutenant, junior grade."

"But you were there," she said softly. "You did your job and you
did it well."

"Yeah."

"You came home, and that's all that matters."

"But what about the guys who didn't come home? What about guys
like Keith Olin? What about them, Mister Secretary?"

Beth shushed him. "You can't do anything about Keith," she said,
tears welling at the emotion in her husband's voice.

"Yeah," he said sullenly. "That's the problem."

"The only thing you can do is live your life," she said quietly.
"You've got a son and daughter who love you, and a wife who does
too."

He looked at her and his eyes turned soulful.

"I know I can't possibly understand what it was like," she said,
"but that doesn't mean I don't care. You can't tell me all of
it..."

He shook his head curtly.

"...and you probably don't want to. But I can still be here for
you. I always will be, you know. No matter what."

He smiled ironically. Then he grew thoughtful, and gazed at her
quietly.

"You don't have to talk about Vietnam if you don't want to." She
shrugged. "You're not there now, you're _here_. Here with your
wife and your family. Here with the people who love you."

"Yeah, you're right," he said at last.

"Of course I am," she said, smiling warmly. Then she sat up and
gazed at him, her expression serious. "You only have one
immediate problem to deal with."

"Oh?"

"Mmm hmm. Me."

His eyebrows arched.

"I've been waiting nine months for you to get home, and if you
don't make love to me soon, I'm going to explode."

He grinned, cocky and amused. Then he turned serious.

She suddenly felt unsure of herself. "What?"

"You know... marrying you was the smartest thing I ever did."

She gazed into his eyes and felt her own begin to fill with
moisture. Then she kissed him, hard. "I love you," she breathed
between kisses. "I love you, and I've missed you."

He reached for the satin bow at the back of her dress, and she
straddled his hips.

"I've missed you so much," she breathed as he untied the bow.

**

"Spread your legs," Jack said.

Susan grinned mischievously. She spread her legs, but laid her
hand over her pussy.

Jack simply tilted his head with an unspoken command.

She moved her hand.

His glance flicked to her legs. "Wider," he said, his eyes moving
back to her hairless pussy. The lips parted, revealing her pink
inner folds. He grinned lecherously. "Nice."

She gave him a playful look.

"Finger yourself."

She sucked her middle finger, her lips pursed as she held his
gaze. Then she deliberately buried her finger in her pussy, her
eyes never leaving his.

"Nice," he said, and began stroking himself. His balls ached from
earlier, but he didn't move toward the bed. He wasn't patient,
but he _was_ disciplined, and he wanted to make her wait.

She closed her eyes and began fucking herself with her finger.
She moaned softly, her flattened breasts quivering as her finger
moved faster.

He knew that she could get off by playing with herself, but he
also knew that she wanted to suck him. Her orgasms were always
strongest when she got off while giving head. He smiled to
himself and finally moved toward the bed.

She opened her eyes when she felt him kneel beside her. She gazed
at his erection and unconsciously moistened her lips.

"Do you want to suck me?" he asked, teasing her.

She nodded.

"Are you going to be a tease?"

She shook her head, her mouth open, yearning for his shaft.

"Are you sure?"

She strained, silently pleading with him.

"All right," he said, shuffling forward on his knees.

She wrapped her lips around his shaft and sucked greedily. He
closed his eyes and grunted--the head of his dick was super-
sensitive. He held her head and thrust more of his cock into her
mouth. She sucked hard, her cheeks caving in. He threw his head
back and tried to concentrate on anything but the feeling of her
soft lips around his shaft. He wanted her to come before he did,
so he gazed at a point high on the wall.

Beneath him, Susan sucked his cock, taking it as deep as she
could. He could tell that she was close to orgasm. She half-
grunted and strained to swallow more of his cock. A moment later
her fingers went into overdrive and she moaned around his shaft,
her face crimson from exertion. Then she let out an explosive
breath and stiffened.

When she finally relaxed, her breath whistled through her nose as
she nursed his cock. He let her rest for a moment, but then
slowly pulled his erection from her mouth. His shaft was red and
shiny, the head purple.

Susan stared up at him with sightless eyes. Then she focused on
his face and the look of intelligence returned. She knew what he
wanted, and she rolled to her back with an inviting smile.

Jack spent a moment simply gazing at her hairless pussy, moist
and puffy from her fingers. Then he climbed between her legs, his
dick bouncing as he moved. He lowered his hips and inserted the
head. She gasped--she was still sensitive--so he took his time.
When his hips ground against her thighs, he stopped and simply
looked down at her.

Her eyes were glassy with lust, but filled with love. She smiled
up at him and stroked his arms, her chest still heaving from her
exertions.

"Okay," she said at last.

He arched an eyebrow, a final "Are you sure?" gesture.

Her nostrils flared as she took a deep breath. Then she nodded.

His first thrusts were slow and gentle, until he was sure she
wasn't too sensitive. When she urged him on with her eyes, he
began moving faster, her breasts bouncing with each thrust.

He didn't last long. The familiar pressure of an orgasm began at
the back of his balls and surged forward. He sat back on his
haunches and pulled out, his dick shiny with her juices. He
stroked himself once, twice, and then groaned. He scooted closer,
his cock aimed at her pussy.

The first surge caught him by surprise, pleasure exploding
through his body, shooting along his nerves. The second surge
came a moment later, his dick gushing as he stroked it. He closed
his eyes and held his breath as the sensation continued, his
entire body stiff.

When he finally opened his eyes again, she was smiling up at him.
He relaxed and sagged back, panting. Then he looked down at the
white droplets of semen on her tanned skin. A rivulet had run
down her slit, making it even shinier than her own moisture had.

She smiled and reached for him. He bent over her, his shrinking
erection trapped between them.

"Welcome home, sailor," she said, her voice husky with affection.

"I bet you say that to all the guys," he said. Then he kissed
her, cutting off her reply.

She didn't seem to mind.

**

Beth held David's head as he nuzzled her breasts. Her light
yellow dress was bunched at her waist, the satin ribbon long
since discarded. David loved her breasts as much as she loved his
dick.

Her breath caught at the thought of his dick. She could feel the
bulge against her thigh, and her pussy was slippery with desire,
but she bided her time. _What a sacrifice,_ she thought wryly,
enjoying herself as David lavished attention on her nipples.

She wanted to unzip his fly and pull out his hard-on, but she
knew she'd never be able to. He was too long and too hard, and
his fly was simply too small.

_Oh well,_ she thought gaily, _I'll just have to take his pants
off. C'est la vie!_

But first, she had to get his mouth away from her chest. She
didn't mind him sucking her nipples, but _she_ had more important
things to suck.

She pushed him back and tilted her head to kiss him. His face was
smooth, his lips damp from licking and sucking. She tasted his
breath and inhaled a whiff of his spicy cologne, which made her
head spin with desire. She finally broke the kiss and climbed
from his lap.

With an eager look, she knelt between his legs. Then she ran her
hands along his thighs--the heel of her right hand pressed firmly
against his trapped erection--and reached for his belt buckle.
She undid it quickly, popping the button of his pants a moment
later. The zipper hissed and she made a show of moistening her
lips in anticipation.

She didn't need to tell him to lift his hips. With practiced
ease, she pulled his pants and underwear down, freeing his
erection. She rose on her knees, her bare breasts brushing his
shins.

She inhaled the scent of his manhood as she kissed her way up his
thigh. Then she seized his shaft with one hand and held it out of
the way, tilting her head to kiss his heavy balls. She couldn't
hold back for long, though, and felt her desire building to an
uncontrollable level.

He groaned when she surrounded the tip of his dick with her lips.
He groaned again as she swallowed him inch by inch, her lips
around his shaft, her tongue caressing him. She wanted to swallow
as much of him as she could, but she knew he wouldn't last that
long. Not the first time, at least. She could suck him longer the
second time, but that was for later. Besides, she was as eager as
he was, and she wanted to taste him.

She bobbed up and down, her lips caressing the smooth skin of his
shaft. He grunted once and thrust his hips upward. Beth smelled
his come before she tasted it, before she felt it gush against
the back of her throat. His dick pulsed and showered her tongue
with a second blast. She swallowed, the scent of semen filling
her nostrils. He shot a third time and then a fourth, the spurts
slowing to gushes and then to a trickle. She swallowed, the heat
of his come warming her throat and chest.

He was still hard when she pulled back and grinned up at him. He
could have sex twice in ten minutes, the first time quick, the
second lasting much longer. The head of his dick was usually too
sensitive immediately after his orgasm, though, so she made sure
not to touch it.

She thought about playing with him until he was ready for round
two, but he had other ideas. He gently pushed her away and stood
up, his dick bobbing in her direction. He looked down at her for
a moment, his eyes soft and full of love. Then he lifted her to
her feet. While he took off his shirt, she kicked away her dress
and stepped into his arms.

His erection pressed against her stomach as he held her. She
could feel his ribs, and a detached part of her mind decided to
fix a big dinner, complete with his favorite dishes. But then she
pushed that thought aside and concentrated on his heartbeat. It
was strong and regular, thudding in time with the pulsing in his
shaft.

They held each other for several long moments, neither feeling
the need to move. Then he gently lowered her to the floor. He
grinned above her and began kissing his way down her chest. He
paused to nuzzle her breasts before going lower.

She squirmed in anticipation, her insides boiling with desire. He
spread her legs with his shoulders and she reached down to run
her fingers through the soft bristles of his hair.

He swirled his tongue around her sensitive clit and she cried
out--_quietly_, lest she wake the children. She closed her eyes
in ecstasy. He licked her again, his tongue flicking upward. Her
whole body tingled with sensation, hot and liquid and electric.

He started licking her in earnest and she gripped his head. Her
legs rested on his shoulders, her feet flat on the floor. He held
her hips, his tongue wagging through her folds, driving her
higher. Her breathing grew shallow and rapid, and she could feel
her stomach heaving with shockwaves of pleasure.

She wanted to cry out, to moan in pleasure, but she bit her lip
instead. She could imagine Paul walking from his bedroom and
discovering them on the living room floor. She almost laughed at
the mental image of herself explaining what Daddy had been doing
to Mommy. She didn't think "eating pussy" would make sense to a
three-year-old.

Fortunately, David sucked her clit and she forgot all about her
son. He sucked again and she forgot her _name_.

_What's in a name?_ she thought whimsically, trying not to
giggle.

Her nascent laughter turned into a groan as David flicked his
tongue along her slit. She held his head and bucked her hips,
trying to force more of his mouth against her mound. He obliged,
and hot waves of pleasure rushed through her body.

It took her a moment to realize that David had stopped licking
her. Instead, he was settling himself above her. His dog tags
swung before her eyes like a hypnotist's bauble, but he threw
them over his back. She focused on his face for a moment, but
then she felt the fat head of his dick at her opening.

She gasped and clamped her eyes shut at the immense pleasure as
he slid inside her. Heat and pressure assaulted her, and she
imagined she could feel every inch--every _vein_--as he buried
himself inside her.

Someone groaned when his hips ground against her. After a moment
Beth realized that _she'd_ made the guttural sound. She groaned
again and pulled David down to kiss him.

Fireworks burst in her brain and she kissed him with fiery
passion, tasting her own juices on his lips. She had a flash of
Susan and immediately thrust her hips against him.

He began moving within her, his thick shaft spreading her open
with each thrust. She felt her muscles contracting with the first
twinges of orgasm, but David simply battered through, driving her
higher.

Between imagining what Susan's pussy would taste like and the
pounding of David's dick, Beth quickly lost herself. Her orgasm
started small but built to a crescendo, rolling over her like a
symphony of sight and sound and feeling.

She caught glimpses of David's surprise at the unexpected
tightness of her pussy. She heard him grunt as he forced himself
through her clenching muscles. She closed her eyes, ecstasy
overwhelming her senses.

Her first orgasm had barely died away when she felt the second
one building. David continued pounding into her, his dick hitting
something deep inside her and sending her over the edge, plunging
her into a shuddering, rolling climax.

She lost track of time.

She felt the aftershocks as mere ripples in a surface left calm
by the passage of two big waves. She felt every sensation as
David moved, burying his manhood deep within her. She even felt
the heat of his semen as he filled her.

Her stomach quivered and she held him, her face buried in the
hollow of his neck, her legs spread to accommodate him. He panted
from his own exertion, and Beth realized that her mouth was
cottony. She swallowed, her chest still heaving with the effort
to breathe. David held most of his weight off her, but she still
felt the comfortable heaviness of his body atop hers.

She spared a passing thought for her fantasy of tasting Susan's
pussy, but merely smiled at the naughty images. A year before,
she would've been appalled by the thought of sex with another
woman.

_But that was before Susan._

She hugged David, wondering what it would be like to watch him
have sex with someone else. But then a thought occurred to her.
Her eyes snapped open and she almost jerked in shock.

_What if Jack wants to have sex with_ me_?_

David roused a moment later and began to kiss the nape of her
neck. His dick had softened within her and it slipped free as he
moved. She knew him well enough to realize that he'd revive soon
enough. He did that sometimes when he was especially horny.

She snorted softly--after nine months at sea, he'd _better_ be
especially horny. She gazed down at him as he kissed her nipples.
With a smirk, she wondered if Jack could go three rounds in
thirty minutes.

**

Copyright (c) 2007 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved.

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