by Pandora Snow
My right hands flex along her flawless skin as I come around to her ass and slide my hand underneath her panties.
"Put your right knee up onto my thigh," I dictate, the smell of her provocative arousal flowing into my nostrils.
I take in a deep breath against her nipple and begin flicking the peak with my tongue. My hand moves around to her silky-smooth pubic skin relishing her intimate submission to me. My index and forefinger slide along her slick folds from top to bottom, pushing ever so slightly inside her opening.
"Matthis!" she cries out, the quivering of her lips frantic for more.
"Sergeant!" I command loudly, her body involuntarily wrenching against me.
"Sergeant," she huskily breathes, her fingernails scratching my upper back and shoulders.
My index and forefinger push quickly and deeply inside her, the clutching of her tight vagina causing me to take a hard bite of her nipple.
"Ahhh!" she shouts, rocking her hips to generate friction. I pace my tongue and my fingers to a torturous rhythm of indulgence, stroking her with intense pressure.
"Please, oh God, please," she begs, my devilish grin taking another delightful bite of her swollen bud. I'm out of willpower and resistance as my thumb presses firmly on her clitoris.
Three more perfectly synchronized movements are all it takes for her to burst into orgasm, her hot, slick juices screaming in ecstasy. My fingers slip out of her vagina and into my mouth. As soon as she looks into my eyes, I lick each finger clean, reveling in her unabashed euphoric glow.
I could lose myself in her dreamy eyes right now. My cock, however, is done watching the show. I need to be naked.
I push her out to arm's length, her footing unstable. "Remove my clothing," I mandate, laying back on the bed with my hands under my head to enjoy the production. "There's a condom in the back pocket."
She gracefully drops to her knees, a salacious look in her satiated eyes.
My cock strains as her left hand slides up and down my length, squeezing gently. Her right hand unbuckles my belt and the button of my pants. As her nails rake firmly along my cock, her intention becomes clear. She's going to take her time and leave me panting. Touche Dr. Fletcher.
The lowering of my zipper in her teeth is unraveling my self-discipline. She grasps the sides of my jeans and tugs as I lift my hips off the bed. My enlarged cock springs free, slapping against my stomach. Before I can catch a breath, her soft hair spills across my chest, and her mouth begins gently sucking my tip.
"Jesus, Christine!" I growl, fueling her desire to swallow me whole.
My hands are fisting in the fabric as she expertly sucks me deeply with a long hot suck. I feel myself hitting the back of her throat as I jerk precum into her diabolical mouth. She moans with satisfaction, slowly releasing me inch by inch. I could easily come like this, but I want to be inside her, to feel her clenching tightly while we make love.
"Enough civilian!" I bark, sitting up and lifting both of us to standing. My shirt and her panties are thrown across the room. I order her to wrap her legs around me. I crawl to the top of the bed and gently lay her down, pressing my full weight on top of her squirming body.
"Open your legs wide," I say against her ear, all reason falling away. I roll on the condom, and my tip slides up and down her hot, trembling core. Her back arches against me, desperate for another round of blissful pleasure.
Before I pass the point of no return and penetrate her fully, I look into her sparkling hooded eyes. "Do you want this Christine, are you sure you want to be with me?" I ask quietly, my confidence wavering at the magnitude of this moment.
"Yes, Matthis, yes. Please."
My pulsing stone cock thrusts into her silky opening in a nanosecond. She cries out, gripping my hair with all her might.
"Does that hurt?" I breathe harshly, taking the next stroke more gingerly.
"Just caught me off guard, I'm good. More."
Our thoughts are lost to the ferocious race to climax. My eyes want to roll back in my head as her tightness squeezes me to the right side of bliss. Her nails claw into my back, then reach above her, bouncing breasts and hard nipples begging for sucking once more.
The headboard bangs against the wall as she finally grabs hold, and I feel her release beginning. My lips capture the vibration of every sexy sound she makes as I seal our impending surrender. I bury myself fully inside her with one last forceful stroke, our bodies synchronistic union exploding into one.
The sounds of her heavy panting and feel of her sweat glistening skin burn into my memory. My cherishing lips kiss a tender trail along her jaw, her eyelids, and finally her slack mouth.
"You're incredible, Matthis, inside and out," Christine says sweetly in my ear, breathing and finding a manageable pace.
I'm unable to speak, her declaration fighting for space in the chaos of my thoughts. That was undeniably the best sex of my life, and I left Christine fully satisfied. Why can't I just be happy with this moment?
Because I don't deserve this woman, I don't deserve to be happy. I failed Private Hampton, and I will eventually fail Christine. My gut instinct is to run, shoving down the feelings of unworthiness and regret. After all, that's what I always do. It may stab me in the gut to leave now, but it will kill me later if I have to disappoint her down the road.
I kiss her on the forehead, pulling out and untangling my limbs from hers. I'm so ashamed of myself I don't think I can look her in the eye.
"Where are you going, Matthis?" she asks with panic in her voice as I'm pulling on my jeans.
"I don't want to crowd you. I'll see you Monday," I reply, insincerity rolling off my tongue, every word a lie.
"Bullshit," she says, calling me out. I'm a fool to think I can hide my feelings, especially from Christine. The t-shirt is pulled over my head as I carefully reply.
"I'm not sure I'm ready for this Christine, you know, a relationship and all." The room's energy is becoming ice-cold, and I'm struggling to maintain her confused, shocked stare.
"What do you mean ready, Matthis? We had sex, unbelievably amazing sex. I'm not asking anything more of you." Her face is quickly moving from shock to disappointment to anger.
"Yes, amazing sex, thank you, Christine." Her infuriated reply is instantaneous.
"Now you're making me feel like a whore! If this was a one-night stand, I'm fine with that, but don't patronize me."
"Please, Christine, I'm just not ready to deal with this." She's standing directly in front of me now, in all of her glorious naked splendor. She's so fucking beautiful.
"Your penis was ready to come inside my vagina; you were ready for that!"
The tension between us is skyrocketing, my hands itching to soothe her.
This is a no-win situation. I don't have the emotional capacity to discuss this any further.
"I'm sorry, Christine," I say and walk out her front door like the coward I am.
Before the door fully closes, I hear her sniffling. Great; I've made her cry and feel like a whore, and all she did was give me the best night of my life. I've walked out on the only person who can help me heal my emotional trauma, and more importantly, help my wounded heart to love. I'm a complete asshole.
CHAPTER SIX
Today's flag football game is precisely what I need to force some of this pent-up frustration out of my body. I've been berating myself for the last thirty-six hours, ashamed of my immaturity. I coldly walked out on a woman who's only agenda was to love me. Despite my endless flaws, Christine wanted me, and she took me, and all I could do was hurt her. Monday morning's reckoning will come soon enough, time to clear the dirt in my head with the dust on the field.
"Hey, Hayes, you get laid?" Snake calls out from across the yard, my face burning red with embarrassment.
"None of your damn business, jerkoff," I reply, the other guys laughing as we form into teams.
"Anyone heard from Drake?" Cyrus calls out.
A collective no rings through the air. Drake seemed fine
right before we boarded the C-130 for the flight home. He's been MIA ever since. I need to double my efforts this week to find him.
My game is on point today, leading our team to a wide margin of victory.
We're catching our breath after the final play when Cyrus says to me, "Hey, isn't that your date from Friday night?"
My head snaps back to see Christine walking a large golden retriever with a tall, handsome man in uniform. The sunlight is weaving golden threads through her hair, her short sundress spotlighting her beautiful long legs.
Snake sees the forlorn look on my face and takes pity on me for once. "Looks like there won't be a second date, she must like older men. Tough break man, he's a Colonel too."
Shit. He is a Colonel. Sweat is pouring down my face as someone hands me a towel. Christine looks my way casually, her eyes freezing when she sees me.
Her expression is blank as she immediately turns back, resuming the conversation with her date. I don't deserve a woman as kind, smart, and beautiful as Christine. I guess this is for the best.
"Beers?" Everett asks, my stomach churning with regrets.
"No thanks," I reply, "See you guys later." Neither my stomach nor my heart can handle food and drink right now. Seeing Christine with another man is a dagger to my ego and my self-esteem. I blew it, I totally fucking blew it with her.
***
Monday morning is harsh, the soldiers and my attitude out of sorts. Several of the veterans are giving me hell about how I'm performing their stretches, bitter from years of pain and suffering.
"You don't know what the hell you're doing!" a thirty-year veteran shouts at me as I pull the knots out of his knees. I can't argue with him on that point, at least not regarding relationships.
"Sergeant Hayes, my office." As if this day couldn't get any worse, now I'm in trouble with the Commander.
"Shut the door," he orders, walking around behind his desk.
"Dr. Fletcher requested your case be transferred to another therapist this morning. Why is that Sergeant?"
Because I'm a coward and an asshole, Command. I note that Christine didn't waste any time letting me go.
"Permission to speak freely, Commander, Sir," I request.
"Denied," he replies.
"Dr. Fletcher and I disagreed on a personal level. I'm willing to continue therapy with a new doctor." His face is hard, showing me zero compassion or understanding.
"Request denied Sergeant. I'll inform Dr. Fletcher. Your next appointment is at 3:00 p.m. Dismissed."
"Yes, Sir," I reply, quickly exiting his office. I have no idea what I'm going to say to Christine to fix the train-wreck, which is my emotional baggage.
Lunch was a fine mess of crusty meatloaf, but I wasn't hungry. My appointment with Christine is in an hour, and my anxiety is skyrocketing.
A private taps me on the shoulder as I'm stretching a patient's hamstring.
"Dr. Fletcher had to leave for the day. Your appointment needs to be rescheduled."
"Thanks," I reply.
I wonder if she was as pissed off with the Commander's decision as I was. This awkward situation at work is all my fault. Christine has been open and willing to listen to my emotional challenges, but I've been too frightened to speak or acknowledge the depth of my pain. The weight of the day is looming large on my heart. Even though it's only Monday, I need a day off to get my shit together.
***
I've spent most of Tuesday wallowing in self-pity, wishing I could be back in Christine's bed and Christine's arms. I would tell her she's the spark of life my lonely days have been desperately missing. I wouldn't be sitting here in old grey sweatpants licking my wounds like a fool.
The cell phone ring breaks my pathetic self-loathing.
"Sergeant Hayes?" I familiar voice speaks.
"William, is that you?" I reply. We served together in Iraq. I used to help him when his knee popped out of joint.
"Yes, sir. I'm afraid I have some bad news."
My head falls low, knowing what his next words will be, just not knowing which soldier.
"Private First-Class Pete Mahoney committed suicide this morning. His girlfriend said you were helping him through rehab and asked that I let you know. I'm sorry, Sergeant."
Jesus, not Pete. I thought we were making headway. For fuck's sake, I just saw him yesterday.
"Thanks for letting me know," I reply, automatically ending the call. I've failed another soldier, this time with my inability to ease his mental anguish. Christine will have a field day with this one, I bemoan, tears forming in my discouraged eyes. I need Christine. Not to talk to me, to hold me.
A loud knock on the door startles me from the Netflix drama series I'm binge-watching. I can't get the phone call out of my head, praying for any distraction from my heart's immense agony. Who have I failed now?
"Hey Matthis, there you are."
Everett is standing at my front door with a case of beer and a bag of burgers. Everett is a good man.
"I went by the Rehab Center and they said you took the day off. I wanted to come over and make sure you're alright. It's been a rough couple of days for you."
"Thanks, Everett, come in." We set the food and beer on the coffee table and resume the television show.
"You didn't have to come over, but I appreciate the gesture."
"Yes, Matthis, I did," he says in a serious tone. "We look out for each other, in good times and bad. That's what brother's do."
His words of compassion humble me. I wish I had the courage to lay my feelings out in the open.
"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for. The night of the second ambush you were the calm one, you were the one in charge, you were the one who organized the team and attended to the emergencies. You saved numerous lives that night, Matthis."
My head falls down, the crux of my fears laid bare by my best friend. "I couldn't save them all. I couldn't save Hampton," I whisper, the sadness engulfing my depleted body.
"You did everything you could, more than anyone else. It was not God's plan for Hampton to survive, and it most certainly was not your fault. It's time you let this go once and for all."
"You have a great job and command intense respect from the other soldiers," he continues, additional tears welling up as my fingers brush across my eyelashes.
"Besides, rumor has it there's a stunningly beautiful and smart sexy doctor who has her eye on you. Three of us are still single, and we're willing to fight you for her."
He hands me a napkin, patting me on the back as I release my heartbreak. "That's not the worst part," I lament, knowing it's time for courage and honesty.
"I walked out on Christine Friday night after she surrendered her body and her soul to me. I ran like a coward, a fucking coward."
"Shit," he says sympathetically, letting me finish recounting the many blunders I made with her in the short span of a week.
"Sounds like you've screwed up plenty. But when a woman knows that man is the one she wants to spend her life with, she forgives stupid mistakes," he says, smiling at my pathetic face.
"She's madly in love with you, you idiot! I saw the truth in her eyes the second she walked into the bar. You have two choices, run away or throw up the white flag. When a woman loves you despite your faults, she's forever."
Everett has a gleam in his wise eyes as I attempt one last excuse to choose the easy way out.
"It's too late; she's already moved on. You saw them together Sunday; I can't compete with a Colonel."
He laughs like he's got a big secret, and he's not telling.
"Just apologize, Matthis. Get down on your knees. She'll forgive you."
He stuffs a few fries in his mouth and returns to the show. The gravity of the truths he shared land deep within my soul. I'm grateful to be alive with excellent health. If Everett can be candid about sharing his brotherly love, I can find the courage to share my innermost fears with Christine.
I can open my heart to her, on every level, and allow
her to help me put the broken pieces back together. She knows the depths of my struggles, and she wants me anyway. Christine is everything I could ever desire in a woman. Somehow, I'll find a way to win her back.
"I have some news on Drake," he says after we've polished off the greasy meal.
"He's living in Virginia and working construction. I don't have any additional personal details, but at least we know he's safe."
