The War Room (Part 2)


He did not want to go off to the next war fighting another war in his head. He had battled within himself on whether to make this life of wait and anxiety a permanent thing for her. Whether she really deserved all the pain that comes with it and how every knock on the door could be bad news. News of his untimely demise.

He thought about it and figured if she’d have said no, he would have understood and let her be. But since she said yes, he was simply overwhelmed with joy and their tears met on their cheeks as they kissed so deep she could taste the ash and cinder from the war in his mouth.

The timer went off again and she broke off the kiss and asked to meet him in the bathroom in 5. There was a lot of clean up to do. She turned the oven off. The smell of the medium rare from the eye of the round rent the room. She covered it and closed the door as she skittered off to the bath and followed the trail of army regalia into his ready arms and as the shower hit her scalp, she was thankful for how the day turned out to be. The New Year couldn’t have started any better.

He scrubbed her back and rinsed her off gently with the moving shower head just enough to fire her engines back on. She instinctively turned to the wall and raised her feet so that only her toes touched the non-slip bathroom mat and supported herself on the glass walls of the cubicle.

He took his time to clean himself with the shampoo and once he had drained all of what was left of the war, he took her from behind and felt the tightness give in an inch at a time. His delivery was a war story on its own. Clear detail on how his days were and invaluable knowledge on how much he had missed her. She shuddered with every gentle entry. It felt like home every time his furry pair hit her clit as they swung in a disguised rage.

He kissed her nape and kept kissing till his back couldn’t arch any further. The small of her back formed two distinct dimples and she arched and twisted in the throes of pleasure. His hastened his strokes and she could tell he was about to nut. She stopped him and got to her knees to return the favor. She took all of him in and felt his juices ooze out of him at the back of her throat.

His meat was still warm and she milked it dry with gentle strokes and watched him curl his toes as she played with the head using her tongue. She guided the errant juices dripping from the sides of her mouth back in using her finger and he took her up by her hair and kissed her as his semi limp dick rubbed on her sore cunt. They both found it ticklish and laughed amid the kiss as they pulled away coyly. They rinsed and laughed their way out of the shower.

The supper was microwaved and it still had the herbal taste she had hoped it would. The Worcestershire sauce was so distinct her mouth watered even at the thought of it. The swing on the portico creaked gently on its hinges as they watched the fireworks over some fine bourbon on the rocks. She couldn’t ask for more from the year that led to this day. She had had more meat for her fill than a starving tigress. She was just glad there was someone to kiss on New Year’s eve.

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