The Soldier and I are reunited. [Final draft]

This is the final draft crafted from the rough I posted earlier.  I’m always interested in the process for other writers, so thought you guys might want to see how my brain works.

I took the rough cuts and fluffed out points I wanted to make, drew contrasts for emphasis, and tried to bring human elements to the interactions.  This isn’t an excuse, but I hammered out this “final draft” in less than an hour; I might be able to polish it even more if I gave myself more time, but I’m already late to arrive somewhere as it is. 

I think it’s enough for you all to see some of the process.  Let me know if you like this sort of thing or would want to participate in draft revision with me on the blog.  I think that could be a lot of fun!




Roughly a month after he disappeared The Soldier sent me a text.

“Sorry I was an asshole.”

That was a little before noon on a Tuesday.  By Thursday afternoon he was cumming down my throat.

Our original plan was for him to come and wake me up early Monday morning after I got back from Ann’s, a nice wake and fuck for the both of us, but at 6:59 am on Thursday morning I texted him.

“You know what I just realized?  My 1 o’clock meeting got cancelled…”

“Hmmm… what times specifically”

“I could be home by 1:30.  Gotta leave to get my baby by 2:40 haha”

“Hmmm….. I’ll see if I can get out”

And that was that.

I raced home from the office and knowing we were pressed for time I stripped down to my panties and donned a long, dark grey cardigan.  He gasped when I opened the door.  I gasped as he pressed past me clad in his dusty fatigues.

We turned to each other then and kissed like no time had passed.  Like he hadn’t hurt me, like I hadn’t struggled to make sense of the senseless.  He wrapped his arms around me and I lifted my face to his and let him melt into me and the last few weeks of silence disappeared.

“Hi,” I said into his mouth.


He smelled fruity and his short hair was crunchy like the boy’s hair I touched sophomore year of high school.

His hands slipped inside the cardigan and I moaned and arched against him and tugged his shirt out of his waistband.  He removed it altogether in one smooth pull and returned to our kiss.

I remember the first times I ever made out with a man and the revelry I experienced.  His height, his hard muscles, his foreign everything, including clothing.  It’s a point of pride that I can unbuckle a man’s pants with my eyes closed and lips locked on his, so I laughed when I had to break away to look at The Soldier’s gear.  The belt was buckled and velcroed shut.

He pushed my hands out of the way and deftly undid it.  I unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down past his hips.  My right breast fell exposed by my ministrations and he gently reached out and lifted the heavy flesh to his mouth.

The situation suddenly became real and we hadn’t left the foyer.

He sat down and struggled with the laces on his boots. The dog thought it was the perfect opportunity to get loved on and The Soldier laughed and pushed the wet nose away as he fumbled with the ties.  I stood impatiently wondering if this were even real.

When he stood me up four weeks earlier I was heartbroken.  Not in the devastated way I was left in by The Neighbor, but in a Fuck, I Missed Out On Something Great way.  Seeing him race to untie his boots at my feet was surreal.  And then he was done and lifting me up into his arms.

I sank down to his hips and gripped him with my thighs as he walked us back into my room, his mouth ground into mine and my heart slammed against my ribs.

My room was filled with light and I watched him roll a condom on and crawl up over me.  He pushed in and his diamond hard cock pricked me like a blade.  I came a little and trembled.

His mouth crushed down on mine and I held him to me; the cold chains of his dog tags pooled between my breasts as he rocked against me and I watched them swing when he pushed up to his hands and began to plow into me.  Standing, bent over, curled up like a ball.  He made up for lost time it seemed and I hung on to whatever I could grab for purchase and clenched and moaned and oozed and pooled around him.  My orgasms rolled one into the other as he took his cock out in hand and rubbed it vigorously all over my lips and slit and clit.

I gushed and spasmed as he watched me intently, his tattoos a dark and colorful pattern behind his lust.

I imagined the patron saint of soldiers at the end of his necklace smiling at us.

On my stomach, my skin pink from his touch, I thought of myself as his punching bag — his cock’s punching bag — or that my vagina had been very, very bad and needed to be told who was boss.

His hands gripped my hips and twisted the skin.  I moaned and cried and told the sheets to Cum, baby, cum!

Silently he shivered and held me to his hips and flopped down next to me.

He had to go in 15 minutes.

We talked about the last month, carefully avoiding the night he stood me up.  He’d been working every weekend in addition to his 40 hour work week and full time kid-duty.  I watched him watch the clock.

He got up to leave and stood facing the bed.  He looked resplendent, a casual machine of a man with war paint needled into his flesh.

I rolled closer and took his wet, flaccid penis in my hand.  It throbbed a little, as if to gasp for air.

“May I?” I asked looking up at him.

“Be my guest.”

“I just want to…” I trailed off, “before you leave…” I didn’t have words.

My intent was to give his cock a goodbye kiss, not to delay his departure, but delay it I did.

He grew exponentially against my tongue  and hand and I closed my eyes and let him stretch out inside my warm, wet mouth.  I felt a familiar hot curl between my legs and stopped.

“Too bad I can’t finish,” I said sincerely.

There was a long pause.

“What the hell…”

He climbed over me and laid down on the bed and I wedged myself between his thighs, took his hardon in my hand and dove down.

Little noises escaped his lips, a rare thing for him I think after years of sharing bunks in the Army and having two small children down the hall.  I increased my tempo, my suction, my grip and his thighs flexed, his hips lifted.  I switched pressures, returned to them, believed there was nothing on this planet but me and this fucking cock in my mouth.

His hands gripped my skull firmly and I gagged.  He came, buried deeply into my face.  I felt his heat hit the back of my throat and trickle down.  I choked a little and he released me moaning fully now.

I flopped next to him this time, my pillow swallowed my head as I had just swallowed him.  H)e got up and disappeared into the bathroom.  The faucet ran.

He returned glistening a little and apologized for having to run out.  It was 2:35.

As he got dressed and fought the dog off again I put on a long black tee and panties.  I didn”t want this to end, but it had to.

We kissed where it started and I pat his ass as he walked out the door.  He chuckled and waved over his shoulder, his shiny sunglasses flashed at me not unlike the ones the boys wore in 1990.

I was glad he was back.


Hy black T


A 40-something single mother who writes honestly about sex, body image, D/s, relationships, her nervous tics, and how much she loves to fucking fuck. She also likes to show you her tits.

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16 thoughts on “The Soldier and I are reunited. [Final draft]
  1. An amazing interlude and your writing really makes it come alive. Wow. But I can’t help wondering, what happens next?

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