Day 12 Orgasm 15

Sunny day today. I went for a long walk on the beach with a girlfriend at sunset. I am so blessed to live where I do. Thank you, world!

We only had a few hours. He'd left his barracks and made it to my hotel by 5, and needed to leave by 8. Three hours was such a fucking tease. But it was something.

He walked in the door and I pinned him against the wall. We kissed furiously for a while, until the pace slowed. Finally we just stood there, foreheads together, arms around each other. It had been too long.

Despite the short amount of time we had, we sat down and had a drink, talked for a bit.

His clothes came off and I openly admired his physique. That last deployment had really shaped him up. Muscular arms and shoulders, trim waist and that lovely round ass of mine.

I'd laid out several pairs of panties for him and let him choose which one he wanted to wear. He chose black satin trimmed with lace. They hugged his ass beautifully.

I'd brought my massage table and tied him to it face down, imploring him not to break it, because he was certainly strong enough to. He loved being beaten. After the first time he told me he wished he could get a beating once a week.

I worked on him for a good half hour, teasing and punishing his flesh with paddles, straps, crops and my hands. His body twisted and turned, but he kept asking for more.

Finally I let him loose and took him to the bed. His eyes sparkled and he kept feeling his sore ass, smiling at the sensation.

He fucked me with his thick cock for a satisfyingly long time, but I wouldn't let him come. When I'd had enough, I flipped him over and started playing between those hot red cheeks. The sounds that man makes when I put something in his ass thrill me to the core. They are so uncontrolled and genuine, they come from deep inside him.

The beauty of fucking this guy never fails to amaze me. Such a dramatic contrast. Normally he presents as powerful and in charge, ready to take on the world and save whoever he can. But when he is getting fucked, that exterior falls away and the tender, vulnerable, mewling man appears, completely open and visible. I know it's uncomfortable for him. I see that when he hides his eyes from me. Because when he's open like that, I can see those parts inside him that have never been allowed to be anything less than strong. I see the tender-hearted little boy who wasn't allowed to cry, who had to deal with the expectation of never showing any sign of weakness as soon as he got old enough to hold back the tears.

That part, that sweet, sorrowful part of my big guy, I wanted to wrap in my arms and let him cry until no more tears would come. So many tears he has never allowed himself to cry.  So much sorrow he's never allowed himself to fully feel. It's eating him up from the inside out. Somehow, getting fucked helps. Even if it's not about tears, it is about touching that tender, vulnerable part of him, deep inside.

He knows I accept him exactly the way he is, unconditionally. If those tears were to let loose and he allowed himself to become a sobbing, snotty mess, I'd hold him and hand him tissues. It wouldn't change my opinion of him one iota. Isn't that we all want? To be loved exactly the way we are, unconditionally?

I fucked him for a long, long time. He kept shyly asking for bigger toys.

Finally we lie there in each other's arms, I saw the clock. He needed to leave in 5 minutes to make it back to the barracks on time. We talk about it and he decides to stay. His record is unblemished, and the worst repercussions are not that bad.

We had 2 more glorious hours together.

Back at the barracks, he crosses paths with his superior, also coming in late. They nod and don't say a word. No repercussions!

After he leaves, I find a souvenir; an undershirt he left behind. To this day it sits folded in the back of my panty drawer. Every once in a while I bring it out and bury my face in it, inhaling the scent of him...and remembering.


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