Stolen Love

Shane was a young man that received the highest metal that a brave soldier can possibly earn...Purple Heart.

Shane was not only a good soldier, but an exceptional lover, which no woman of any race would ever deny this handsome youngster the ultimate pleasure...sex!

I know this for a fact because Jackson, my husband of one year would never lie to me. A good father but only a fair lover, who helped bear Jackson Jr. before he went off to war with his twin brother Shane. My one and only.

I was only three years older than these identical twins, 23, when they both decide to serve their country proud. Enjoying what they do best, fighting the enemy and stalking their young prey of that of the enemy that Jackson mentions in a letter that only Shane took part in. Realizing when Jackson was the only sole twin that got to come home after three long and miserable years of intense fighting and a few cuts and scraps. That I was still so proud of what he had done, and their brave accomplishments.

Jackson said that night during a hard rainstorm that his kid brother had died for a reason. So that his love for me could grow more stronger and that Jackson Jr. could grow-up knowing his father the way Shane once did.

"Oh, I am just happy that you made it home in one piece, Jackson honey."

"Yes, I know you are too," I reply, embracing my lover the minute he enters through the door.

I never really knew Shane that well. Only seeing him once during his short stay at Christmas time with Jackson and their mother. Since Shane lived with his father most of his childhood days in sunny state of, California.

But ever since Jackson came home from the war he was often blinded by fact that I was still deeply in love with him. Informing him often that I'd been a faithful spouse and that at times I would reach for him on the nightstand to remind me of what we once shared.

Taking the picture and rubbing it over my nude pussy and tits to pre-

tend he was still here with me during troubling times and when I got lonely for a man.

"Mum, I do miss you Jackson honey," I cried, while lying on my bare back with my legs spread evening. Massaging my soft milky skin, large brown nipples, and the thick dark bush that lay between my soft and elegant touches.

Late that first evening, alone upstairs in our warm cozy bed, I felt like I was with a stranger. Like Jackson was somebody else when he slowly went down on me and flirts with my tits as I squirm to what he was indulging in between my leery and laid open legs. Coming not once but twice when Jackson gave his all and shot a heavy load deep inside my dampness.

"Mummm, baby!" I said, reaching my quivering lips up to softly kiss Jackson's lustful mouth. And to caress his strong biceps, outside my braided brown hair.

But when weeks turns into months I gradually begin to except the fact that his antics in bed was something I'd yearned for, for a very long time. It wasn't just the way he cares for my young and vulnerable nest of dark body hair.

"Mum, I love the way you sift and peel back my tender pink skins, my love," I would say, squirming about.

But also the way he would look at me with those gorgeous blue eyes and surprise me in the kitchen dressed where I stood in a sexy short summer dress preparing supper.

"Oh, Jackson, darling. You do make my wet pussy tingle and sizzle of much pleasing pleasure."

That is when he would come home tired and smelling like fruit, and our son that we made together was outside playing amongst the many tall timber, which surrounds the charming two bedroom cabin with a large loft. Large open room with all the makings of a romantic and stylish bedroom.

"Oh, baby," I would cry out, allowing his strong soft hands to lift up my satiny garment from the back and fuck me hard.

"You like?" Jackson would always say.

"Yes!"

But I still wonder in the back of my mind if this was really Jackson that spoils me not just in bed, but when we go out as well. It was like he was trying to show off his young petite and beautiful wife to his friends.

Often Jackson would encourage me to dance with him in my sexy red panty and bra, up in our dark loft with soft music ringing in the New Year. Dancing for what seemed like hours in a tight embrace as this lover of mine would intently rub his mass pleasure harshly against me in the heat of the night.

"Oh, you're some kind of lover, you are," I said, right before Jackson would lay me down to seduce my body, mind, right before I would gobble him whole.

"Oh, I miss this a lot, Jackson," I would whisper sweetly in his ear.

"I know, Jane. I know."

Making wild passionate soldier gave me hives and goose bumps like never before. Working as a team to fulfill our needs and a growing fantasy each time out. Stretching my sensitive pink lips, pleasing my soft mellow lips, and grazing upon my weak neck that brought joy within.

But later that next day while Jackson was working hard on the loading dock. I felt a certain flow of newer energy existing inside me. In his sock drawer I discover a letter, one which was addressed to me from someone else.

"Oh, damn," I said, sighing out loud when I read the enclosed letter to myself.

The letter explaining how my lover had died and that he 'willed' his family to Shane.

My body and mind went astray for a few moments as I quickly rid the water from my eyes. Then quickly shoving the letter back under the badly worn socks just before Shane enters the room tired and hungry for affection. Fucking until little Jackson Jr. came home and I gotten cleaned up for supper.