Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 This is the first in the Tales of Home series.  I don't give a rat's ass
where you stand in this war; its here, and I'll be damned if I'm not going
to support our troops.  That being said; This is a work of adult fiction;
if you have to sneak in to see a NC-17 movie, get your sorry butt outta
here.  Otherwise, enjoy, copyright is mine,(which simply means ask first)
and mail me any comments/concerns good or bad. 
************************************************************************
Letter Home (Tales of Home Series) By Dryad (F-solo, MF implied)

   What could she do?

   With a stiff upper lip and no tears, God, no tears, she had waved John
off at the Norfolk pier as the USS Bataan left port bound for the Gulf.

   That was 3 months ago, but now it was their anniversary.  He was God
knows how many miles away.  The last e-mail she had gotten from him, he was
somewhere in the Persian Gulf, but that was three days ago.  He'd warned
her that e-mail would be spotty, at best.

   What could she give him?  The USO was putting strict guidelines on what
could be sent; and the DoD was still leery of packages.

   His last e-mail was so hot.  Maybe the equatorial sun was keeping his
body warm, maybe the distance made him want her more, or maybe it was just
the situation and his wanting to feel human again.  He poured emotion, hot
and deep, into the letter; told her what he would do if he were there with
her.  Her hand drifted up to her chest, softly brushing against her breast,
bringing the nipple to attention.

   Perhaps I should go re-read his letter, she thought to herself.  She
headed into the bedroom, where they kept the computer, and she pulled up
his last e-mail.

   She curled up in the chair, wiggling to get comfortable.

   "Hey Angel, I miss you.  It's starting to get hotter than hell over
here. You know how it gets down in the quarry?  Mid day in August, and the
sun is shimmering over the ledges?  All dusty and gritty and grimy.  That's
what it feels like--The quarry.

   At night, if I tune out the jets taking off, I can almost imagine I'm
there.  Bringing you down to the bottom of the quarry, where it gets all
nice and cool, no matter how hot it was during the day.  I imagine us
there, and how I'd slowly peel your clothes off, until you were glowing
naked before me in the moonlight."

   Her skin began to moisten as she squirmed at his words.  She knew what
was coming, so she pulled off her shirt.

   She stopped suddenly, knowing exactly what to give him for their
anniversary.  She clicked on the digital camera, setting it to take still
every 10 seconds, before she continued to read.

   "I'd pull you up against me, let you feel how hard I was for you.  And
I'd kiss you.  Kiss you so hard, you'd know how badly I wanted you.  My
hands would cup your ass and pull you to me, and then I'd bring them up
front and play with your tits.  God, I miss your tits."

   Her hands rose to her chest, squeezing and pinching her nipples the way
she liked him to do.  She squirmed a bit and her eyes fluttered closed. 
Finally, she forced her eyes to focus on the screen and continued to read.

   "I'd let my tongue move down your neck, down to your tits and suck on
your nipples.  I can just feel my fingers on your smooth back, kneading
into you as I suck.  I can feel your fingers fiddling with the buttons on
my shirt, pulling it out of my jeans.  Your hands feel so cool against my
skin, so gentle."

   She sighed softly, her head lolling to one side at his imagined
nibbling. She shimmied quickly out of the rest of her clothes before
settling back into the seat.  She reached over to her drawer and pulled out
the dildo John had gotten for her before he left.  She set it next to her
in the chair before continuing.

   "Your skin would glow in the moonlight.  Do you know how beautiful you
are to me?  My fingers would trace across your skin, lightly, gently.  And
I'd smile when you shivered.  My hands would slide down your hips, smooth
over that really sexy silk skirt you wear when we go to my parent's for
dinner.  My fingers ruck it up and I'd fall to my knees.  I can almost
smell you, if I concentrate hard enough."

   Her fingers were busy, first skimming her arms, her sides, pulling up on
her tits, kneading them.  Her hands roamed her torso, gently teasing
herself.  A blush rose from her diaphragm.  Her fingers dipped lower, but
she waited for his direction.

   "Can you feel me nuzzle your pussy?  Feel my nose press up against your
clit?  Feel my tongue flick out against your wet pussy lips.  God, you
taste good.  My fingers press into your cheeks, pulling you closer to me,
supporting you when I feel you sway.  You like it when I do that, don't
you? My tongue dipping deeper into your pussy, sucking out your juices. 
That's it, moan for me, Angel.  Let it go for me."

   Her fingers followed his words, tickling first her clit, then down lower
into her wet tunnel.  Her fingers circled her clit, pressing and pinching,
then pressing further into her depths.  She moaned, a moan of frustration,
her eyes shut.

   She could no longer focus on the words on the screen, but she remembered
them.  It wasn't that hard, as much as she'd read it.  With her eyes
closed, she reached for the dildo.

   "I can feel you shuddering, Angel.  You want to come, don't you?  I love
how your body is so expressive.  I could flick my tongue right now, and
make you come.

   But that would be too easy.  I lean back to watch the desire and
frustration pass over your face.  I take off my pants quickly, before you
can truly miss me.  My hands on your ass, I lift you up to me.  You're so
light, like a feather; and I feel your legs encircle my waist.  Do you feel
me?  Can you?  My desperate cock searching for your hidden warmth?  Feel it
thrust deeply into you?  I miss the way you would cry out when I'm deep
inside you."

   She pressed the dildo in, moving against it now.  It wasn't John, but it
would help ease the loneliness.  She flicked the switch to the quiet motor,
felt it reverberate through her.  She pressed it deeply, crying out for
him, squirming madly in the chair, lost in the sensations he would have
brought her if he were there.

   "Can you feel that?  Feel me swell inside you?  Feel my hips bucking
against you, our thighs slapping together?  God, you make me want to come.
I feel your pussy squeeze my cock, and I know you're coming.  It's like a
hand squeezing my cock.

   And you know what?  When I come back, no more condoms.  When I come
back, I'm not going anywhere else again.  I know I said no before.  But
when I imagine my cum spurting into you, I feel dizzy.  And all I can think
is that maybe this time, you'll get pregnant."

   Her movements quickened, as she ran through what he had written, in her
head.  Her fingers squeezed her breast as she wailed her orgasm.  She
whimpered until she turned off the vibrator, desperately trying to catch
her breath.  After a few minutes, when her breathing returned to normal,
she scrolled through to the end of the e-mail.

   "I know I said no before, babe.  But I love you, and the thought of you
is what gets me through all the bullshit over here.  The thought of this
being over, and my being home, with you, and watching you grow; You would
be so beautiful, you know that?

   I have to get going.  I'm sorry.  I love you, Amanda.  Be safe, John"

   She turned off the camera, and saved it to edit later.  She'd love to
send all of them; but it was unlikely she could get away with that.  She'd
smuggle him one, maybe two, and save the rest for his return.  She threw on
some clothes, touching her burgeoning belly lightly.  She hadn't told him,
afraid of what he'd say, afraid he'd blame her for the "accident".  Now she
knew she had the perfect anniversary gift for him.

   Copyright Dryad (gbbjg@yahoo.com) 2003