by Sex, Nikki
Without hesitation or doubt, Bob told her he loved her. Laura laughed out of embarrassment and was instantly sorry she did.
The poor boy looked hurt and ashamed, just like a kicked puppy. Feeling guilty for such unintended cruelty, she instinctively leaned over the bar and kissed him, lightly on the lips.
He tasted of bubble gum and single malt.
Laura knew at that moment, that she wanted to take him home with her.
Chapter 20.
Bob was shy at first and Laura had to lead the way.
It was adorable the way he fidgeted nervously as she unlocked and opened the door to her apartment. It was as if he was afraid his mom would suddenly walk down the hallway and drag him off by his ear.
Inside, she sat him on the couch and she brought out some empty jelly jars to use as glasses and together they polished off half a bottle of pilfered whiskey. Bob was tipsy and slurring his words, but he took to the idea of retiring to the bedroom easily enough.
Sure, they both were drunk and so there was a lot of fumbling involved—sloppy kisses and a lot of giggling from both parties.
Realizing that he wasn't about to take the lead, Laura undressed him first, kissing every bit of skin as she exposed it.
Then she stood next to the bed, kicked off her shoes and shimmied out of her blouse and skirt before rejoining him on the bed.
They kissed again and he fumbled at her bra strap until she gently informed him that it was the type that clasped in the front. Bob laughed and then started to fight with the front clasp, as well.
It was at that point that Laura was certain that he'd never done anything like this before. She couldn't believe that such a cute, twenty-one year old man had never been with a woman.
But everything about him told her that this would be his first time.
Bob's artless naivety shined through in everything he did. He had such a youthful innocence—from his shyness as he watched her at work, to the way he blushed all of the time, and how he struggled with her bra.
It was nice to be his first. Special.
Given that, Laura was determined to be patient and gentle with him. She'd never been with a virgin before, but she remembered that her first time had been a nervous, uncomfortable, and embarrassing mess.
There was no rush. They had all the time in the world. She wanted his first time to be a memorable and positive experience. She wanted him to be able to think back and smile. Knowing Bob, he'd probably also blush.
As Laura sat on her couch, her legs tucked under her, she remembered how she took charge of Bob during their first time—not aggressively, but patiently, kindly.
She ran her fingers across his chest and down his sides, caressing his warm skin with affection and desire. When Bob squirmed and goose bumps rose wherever she touched, she giggled.
He blushed a deep red when she kissed his chest and nibbled on his nipples. Laura thought that was cute too.
She kissed her way down his taut belly—not an ounce of fat was on his gorgeous body. He was all lean muscle and smooth skin. He was so responsive to her every touch. She loved feeling, seeing and hearing him respond. She stiffened slightly when she felt his hands on her head, but relaxed when he just tentatively stroked her hair.
Laura half expected him to push her head down onto his cock. She was used to the rough and impatient hands of selfish men. Of course, Bob wouldn't do that type of thing—not this sweet, young boy.
He reacted and moved like a timid animal from the wild. He seemed as though he'd be scared to come up to a person, even though he was hungry for the food that was held out before him.
Bob had been like that—desperately hungry and full of longing, but afraid of what he wanted, all at the same time.
Laura imagined that he'd gone to a Catholic school or something like that, where fear and guilt were beaten into the kids until they were frightened of their own bodies, needs and desires.
Laura didn't find it silly, stupid or childish. She found this innocent quality in Bob refreshing and endearing. Perhaps it was because he was so naive that she found herself liking him more and more. It seemed to contribute to his sweetness and sincerity.
He was so different from the men she'd dealt with most of her life. He didn't play head games, flirt or tease. He had no pretenses. With Bob, what you saw, was what you got. He was easy to read, easy to believe, easy to trust and easy to like.
“What are you doing?” he’d asked when she directed her attention lower down his body.
She’d smiled up at him and asked, “What do you think I’m doing?”
The poor boy had been red-skinned embarrassed. “But… but you don’t have to do that!”
“What if I want to do it?”
Bewildered, he thought about this for a bit. “I guess if you want to…”
The instant she took him in her mouth he came. He spasmed and she tasted the salty sweetness of him.
He blushed even deeper and stammered out a breathless apology, “I’m sorry! I mean—I’ve never—"
"Shhh," she said with a smile. "Don't worry. We're just getting started."
She proceeded to kiss, lick and suck him back into a full erection. My, these young boys do recover quickly. Then she crawled up his body and slid on top of him until he was seated deeply inside of her.
Initially, Bob lay on his back, stock still with his eyes closed tightly—as if he was afraid if he'd open them, he'd find her gone.
Laura moved on top of him slowly, but deliberately until she felt his body come to life and move with her and in her.
What his brain couldn't seem to grasp, his body responded to naturally, with the instinct of a million years of evolution. Laura smiled to herself as she put her hands on his chest and rode him in time with the rhythmic thrusts of his pelvis.
Who needs books, movies or lessons? Let bodies do what comes naturally, and it all works out in the end.
As they moved together, it was Laura's turn to turn red. Although, this wasn't the flush of embarrassment, this was the flush of blood rushing delightfully to where it always went when she got excited and aroused.
She felt the warmth of it cross her cheeks and spread down over her neck to her breasts. Her nipples tingled with an electric buzz as they became engorged and erect in the night air. Then she felt the warm sensation spread down the small of her back and down her thighs.
Panting, they increased their speed, rocking in unison at a faster rhythm. Laura felt the tingling rosy heat of their union come together at the junction of her legs, where a beautiful tension began to build and build. Electric warmth pooled there, where they were joined.
A familiar ache settled in, heavy and coiling with need.
It grew and grew, until it began to pulse within her. Then suddenly, in a burst of pleasure, it let loose like a geyser, shooting up into her stomach and through her chest. It kept going—up, up, up into her neck and throat.
Laura let out a joyous shout as she tensed, convulsed, shivered and shuddered then collapsed against him.
"Are you OK?" he asked, with genuine concern etched across his face.
"I'm better than OK," Laura replied. Her face was damp from the mist of male scent that clung to his muscular chest. "Thank you, Bob. That was just what I needed."
"So you..."
"What?"
"You know..." Bob blushed again, looking embarrassed. He couldn't quite meet her gaze. "You know...did you...?"
Laura smiled and kissed him right between his lovely, smooth pectorals. Those were firm, too. The Navy must've made this boy do a lot of pushups.
"Yes, I did, silly. What do you think that was all about?"
"I thought so. Sorry, I just haven't done this very much."
"I gathered." Laura tickled the nape of his neck. "So, since you asked, did you… too?"
"Oh yes, I did a little while ago." He looked at her amazed. "But you were so—um—busy—I didn't want to bother you none."
Confused, she squeezed her internal mus
cles slightly and stared at him. "You mean that you already came? And you stayed—" Laura squeezed him again and wiggled her hips slightly. There was no mistaking it; she could feel that Bob, in fact, was still. “—hard?"
"Well, yeah." Bob bit his lip, looking slightly upset—as if he feared that maybe he was doing something wrong. "Is that OK?"
"Is that OK?" Laura laughed. "That's better than OK!" She started moving on him again. "Maybe I'll let you be on top this time."
They did it again that night, and the night after that, and the night after that. For the first time, Laura found herself walking into work with a smile on her face and a spring in her step.
She wasn't sure if it was Bob's pent up youthful energy or some sort of vitamins they fed him down at the base. Hell, maybe it was a combination of both, but she was certain that he was beginning to make her happy.
It had been a long, long time since she’d felt this way. Maybe since she was a young child. She felt light-hearted, joyful and full of hope for the future.
Laura was, in fact, happy. Irrepressibly, unreasonably, excessively happy, from the instant she woke, to the moment she shut her eyes to sleep at night.
She went on being happy, right until she discovered she was pregnant.
Chapter 21.
Laura wasn’t stupid or irresponsible. She’d been careful about birth control every time they were together, except for the first night. Of course alcohol, and the novelty of the situation contributed to her slipping up and acting without thinking.
Thus, it was a shock to her, but not a complete surprise when the indicator dot on the little white plastic stick turned blue about three weeks into their relationship—two weeks after she'd missed her period.
Laura was more than a bit angry with herself. She wanted to kick herself into next week. How could she have forgotten protection? After growing up in that God-awful trailer, she'd been certain she'd never want kids of her own.
But sperm are sneaky little bastards and they only needed one chance—one mistake—and those microscopic little emissions, change your whole world.
Motherhood scared the shit out of Laura. Deep in the back of her mind she was afraid, a fear that many women had, that she could turn into her own mother. She couldn't do that to a child.
Now, because of her idiotic recklessness, there was an innocent baby in the picture. Neither Bob nor she was prepared for such a huge, life-changing responsibility.
What was she going to do? Abortion was a lousy option. She hated the whole idea of it, but did she have a choice? She could barely support or look after herself, much less take care of a child.
Maybe she could have the baby then put it up for adoption? Money, bills and continuing to work would be a real problem. Medical care would do her in. Perhaps there was a childless couple out there—nice people who wanted a baby and could help her get by?
Laura knew she was already prone to bouts of almost pathological self-blame and guilt. A termination would no doubt put her overactive conscience into near suicidal overload.
Adoption was preferable to abortion, so was trying to raise a baby on her own without money or resources. But could she give up a baby after carrying it inside of her for nine months?
That also seemed impossible.
Laura considered telling Bob about the pregnancy.
This was supposed to have been a fling. She certainly didn't mean to have any lifelong ties, the kind brought about by having a child. Bob wasn't ready to be a father. Hell, he was just a big kid himself.
Moreover, he was shipping out soon. He shouldn't have to worry about her and a baby. Bob had enough on his mind—like trying not to get killed in a war.
No, it would be best not to burden Bob, although she had mixed feelings about keeping the news from him. He had the right to know, but she also believed that she'd be doing him a huge favor by letting him off the hook.
After considerable internal debate, Laura decided to handle the situation on her own.
As he was sitting at the end of the bar that night, like he did every night, watching her with his devoted puppy dog eyes, she told him. Maybe it was her hormones, or a simple moment of weakness, but she just couldn't keep it from him.
Bob wasn't angry or scared, and this surprised her. He sat up straight at the news, barely able to keep still in his excitement. His eyes shined with pleasure and his ear-to-ear grin surprised her even more.
He proposed on the spot.
Bob and Laura married a week later at the justice of the peace. Two of Bob's drunk buddies were witnesses, confessing they'd gotten out of a mandatory sexual harassment lecture to attend the event.
When Bob slipped on her wedding ring, Laura officially became a Navy dependent.
A few weeks later, he left for Iraq. A few weeks after that, he was dead.
Dead.
It sounded so final because, well, it was.
By the time the uniformed men showed up at her door to inform her that her husband was dead, she’d adjusted to the idea of motherhood. In fact she was looking forward to it.
Yet, within hours of their arrival, she’d lost the baby in a mess of pain and blood.
Her husband was gone and she had no part of him left—no baby of his—only fleeting memories and a couple of pictures.
Now, here she was, scared and alone. Hiding from one man, reading the letters from another man, and feeling guilty as Hell about everything.
Why should I feel guilty—just 'cause I enjoy writing to Jack? I'll probably never even see him in person, anyway. Besides, don't I deserve to get on with my life?
Yet, Laura didn't feel deserving at all.
For that brief time, Bob made her feel valued and loved. She felt ashamed that she never fully reciprocated his feelings. Well, never with the same intensity that he'd felt for her.
She appreciated him and she genuinely cared about him, but they were poles apart, in many ways. Laura felt so much more than eight years older than Bob.
He was so sweet and so good to her—better than she ever felt she deserved. The fact that she couldn't seem to muster the degree of devotion that he bestowed upon her, only added to her self-reproach.
Of course, her feelings toward her dead husband were at the top of her list of reasons to feel bad about herself—and to feel guilty with a capital 'G.'
Laura felt like crap about so many things in her life. Every time she read one of Jack's letters or wrote back to him, she felt she was being unfaithful—that she was a cheater.
Drawn to Jack, Laura couldn't help herself. She didn't want to give him up.
If she was totally honest, part of her guilt was because of the strength of her feelings for Jack. Over the months they'd communicated with each other, he'd been the one positive force in her life. She looked forward to his letters, almost like a lifeline.
He'd become far too important to her.
Laura could relate to Jack and connect with him in a way she could never have had with Bob.
Jack had depth and maturity, traits that wasn't part of who Bob was. Sadness squeezed her heart then, because she knew that if Bob had lived and grown older, he would have grown into a similar depth and maturity.
With Jack, Laura felt instantly how much they understood each other. Already they were on the same level.
She wanted and needed that in her life.
Each new letter showed up with the return address of "FPO-AE." She knew from being the wife of a deployed soldier that the initials stood for Armed Forces Post Office Europe—which was odd because Iraq was in the Middle East, not Europe.
The same return address was on the envelope of every letter that Bob had sent her, even down to the unit numbers, because he and Jack had been in the same unit together. This made her feel even worse, and even more unfaithful.
She could hear her mother now, accusing her of "trading up."
As guilty as she felt sometimes, Laura had gotten to the point where she looked forward to each and every letter. Each one was p
recious, a treasure that she read again and again.
She'd begun picturing what he might look like and where he was right now. She even dreamed about Jack.
He helped fill a void in her life—loneliness, emptiness and a lack of purpose that felt like an aching hole inside of her.
When she wasn't at work, she found herself waiting at home, listening for the sound of the letters as they slid through the mail slot.
She'd hold off until she couldn't stand it anymore and then she'd run across the room and flip through the pile of mail until she found that very special letter. Then she'd tear it open and read it as fast as she could. She’d read it three or four times, savoring every word.
After that she’d put it down and pick it up again later, to read again much more slowly.
Every time she re-read one of Jack's letters, it was as if she was reading it for the first time. She'd even thought up an imaginary voice to go with the words on the pages. It was a manly mixture of John Wayne and Tom Selleck, which confirmed to Laura that she'd probably spent too much time in front of the TV as a small child.
His latest letter was especially exciting.
Laura;
I'm happy to say that things are winding up for us here. Replacements have finally rolled in and we're going through the rather tedious process of turning over all of our equipment and responsibilities to the new guys.
Of course, they really aren't new guys in any sense, for many of them this is their second, third or even fourth trip over here. I guess it's a sign that the war's gone on too long when you meet a 22 year old that's on his third combat tour.
It's been a hell of a rough few months, but I guess I don't have to tell you that. Things have been pretty rough for you, as well. I'm so sorry that you've had to go through your own stuff, too. I also hate that you've had to face it alone.
We've had an extra difficult patch here recently—the natives have been restless. Every time we turn around, somebody's shooting at somebody else. Bombs, called IEDs, are the latest fun surprise for us—rockets, too.
