Letter to IraqbyNellskitchen©
You've gone and the full realization only struck me as your plane disappeared into the clouds. By now you are somewhere over the Atlantic and though you are half of me, I am allowed to know so little.
I am here, beginning my enduring wait. Yes, I promised not to be a complaining wife, but I never promised not to tell you how much I love and miss you.
We did it so simply in the end, didn't we? Marrying on the day before you left to spend a year, heaven knows where, doing things you cannot reveal.
No, as I assured you, I will be strong and won't complain because a month ago, when we first met, I knew how it would be; that you would leave me soon for the other side of the world to fight in a war whose purpose I cannot begin to comprehend.
Yes, I understand and wouldn't have it any other way. You're my Marine after all. But I shall worry and fuss until your return; until we're together once more in the warm bed where we made love last night, a night of passion and heat; our first as husband and wife.
It all seems so strange dear one, every time I think it. "Wife," I found myself pondering its novel flavor throughout the day as I glanced at my wedding band, the ring that you gave me with an assurance to love me for the rest of my life; a circle of gold enveloping me in its passionate embrace.
It's terrible I know but women have many secrets. In the end we keep so few. And though you have only been away from me a few hours I cannot restrain myself because I revealed almost all to you last night. All but one thing. And I have to tell you; confessing what I've kept to myself since our loving began as husband and wife, loving which ended when you awakened me with your gentle touch that final time. Such a night, one only lovers could begin to understand. You took me three times...no, four; I can't remember for sure as it became blurred by the steamy mirror which replaced my mind's former clarity after you left me lovingly sore, a soreness I do not want to go away; not for a year, until you return to me, to make me tender all over again.
But you knew how it was that last time didn't you. You were so careful; seeing to my delicate body, knowing though sensitive from sex, that I wasn't to be hurt, that you, my protector; my knight in shining armor from some long ago time were there to assure that our lovemaking was a bride's, one of warmth and affection; a wedding gift from you. No girl could have asked for more on that, her most important night.
And you slept after each time, didn't you. Yes, you did. But while you slept, I remained awake, breaking a promise made only hours before; that I would always be open to you, that nothing would remain hidden.
But I violated your trust by keeping one secret -- about which I must confess. Please, I beg you, don't think me awful. But driven and frantic as I was -- I saw no other way. Please, it was solely this once and no, I will not do it again. It was the only way my frenzied emotions could think of to prepare for the moment when you departed, to prepare for one of two letters I knew from the start I would write; letters of our wedding night - a night whose sensations would have to last a year - a year that you would spend in harm's way, protecting me.
The second time, do you remember? It was especially for you; a man's time. From the start, I knew you liked it. You're a man, so of course you did.
Think back dearest; to when I took you in my mouth, how I nursed you like a baby might her mother, draining from you your perfumed marrow which I adored from the start and live even now to inhale from your perfect body; something that tastes only of you, of what I alone now, may draw from deep inside you.
Yes, with my mouth I drained your sperm - but I distressed you - I know. This once, unlike times past, I pretended, didn't I? I made believe I swallowed - the act which you liked most. I knew your feeling about it from the beginning because after each time, your eyes searched mine; testing me, probing my vulnerabilities to learn whether my love for you was true.
But last night, after you came, I played selfish and concealed you. It was there -- hidden under my tongue - safe and sheltered in my mouth until you slept. You sensed what I had done or rather what I had failed to do.
But gentleman that you are, you said nothing, but rather let it go, perhaps already knowing me enough to understand that if I didn't I had a reason. Shielding you in my mouth, I lifted my battered body from our marriage bed. Once away from you, I did it.
Perhaps you don't remember in the wake of it all, but when we made love the first time, I took care to slip a pillow under myself and tilted my pelvis upwards in greeting, just enough to create a well in my body for you. You love it deep. Did you feel it?
Yes, I did it just as you liked and took you into me as far as I could. I did it to assure that I might hold what you gave me, knowing once given and no longer yours, it became my own, complete with a woman's exclusive right to do with as she pleased.
And in early morning, when you woke me for the final time, I did the same. You were wonderful and as with before, I waited patiently until you drifted off, then carefully, so as not to wake you, I left our bed again, stealing my way to the kitchen.
There, I took a plate, one of the black ones you're so fond of and quietly set it on the cold floor. Though I wanted to sustain you in my warm body forever, I instead squatted like the bitch in heat I become whenever you're near and forced myself to expel your warm and cherished seed, crouching long enough I think, to release you.
As life-giving sap flows from a wounded tree in the spring, after it spilt, I hid it in a special place and as I write this your love is sealed away, glacial and waiting; waiting for the time when I will write a second letter to my warrior, half-way through his tour of duty, when I will divulge to him my full intentions for what I secreted away.
It will be a special something which a woman could only do for her husband, for her lover of a lifetime - for you.
Stay well my wondrous man and dream of me. Dream of the day, six long months from now when I will write of this once more. But most of all, dream of when I will be with you again.
Until then, be safe, and may God keep and protect you.