I covet you tonight, Tim... as I have nights before. You're back from training for 96 hours... a short pass, but you flew home to see her.
"The life of a Marine is very hard," you said. That's why I massaged your back. That's why my hands rubbed your muscles from buff arms to hard back to hard front.
You rubbed my back next. "The life of a waitress is very hard," you said, to justify the massage. "Hard..." I moaned in return.
Your hands kneaded my tense back... you rubbed my shoulders, my arms. I felt your hands on my waist...
and down...
down...
down...
to rub again.
I'm in your lap now. You rub harder, enjoying the view. I must have lost my clothing in procedure... though I can't remember when. You're still clothed. This doesn't seem fair...
I nibble at your shirt with my teeth... moving downward, tempting you, teasing you... I bite the hem and lift it, with my teeth, over your head. You, wanting to free yourself from this bondage, remove your pants.
I lick my lips. I want to taste you... through this hand/body meeting we haven't kissed. I pull you toward me. God, I can almost taste you now... are you sweet... are you sour? The perfect combination of the two?
Before our lips meet, I pull away. I wonder if it's me or her you've been touching tonight.
"Erin..." you whisper huskily.
When I open my mouth to answer, you kiss it.
Our passions can no longer be restrained.
In a frantic frenzy, we lick and grope and kiss... our bodies collide, our members desperately searching... I want you so badly...
I have you for now. We lie together again, for a moment. Then you kiss my lips once more.
"I'll be home for Thanksgiving," you said. "Can I see you then?"
I nodded.
"You're a good friend, Erin. I've missed you."
"I've missed you too, Tim. Until Thanksgiving..."
One final kiss, then you are gone. You're driving fast... you don't want to be late for her.
What will I do until Thanksgiving?
