To Henry Tolliver, the screech of the tires hitting the superheated tarmacadam was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard. He didn't mind that he was in Atlanta, Georgia or that he was still hundreds of miles from home; he only cared that he was back in the United States, on terra firma Americana. After twenty-three months of enduring hell while serving in Iraq, he was overjoyed to be home.
As he disembarked from the plane, the pilot and co-pilot came out and shook his hand, thanking him for his service. He did his best not to cry but his eyes teared up at their appreciation and he hurried down the hallway and into the terminal. Once inside, other people approached him, clapping, shaking his hand and wishing him well. It was too much for him. He shook as many hands as he could, grabbed up his bags and headed for the men's bathroom.
Thankfully, the bathroom was empty and he leaned against the counter, bawling his eyes out, unable to stem the flow of emotion that he'd successfully kept bottled up since he'd left Iraq. The soft touch on his leg startled him and he jerked his head up, blinking furiously at the woman and the lace handkerchief that she was holding out to him.
"Here. Take this."
Henry stared at her for a moment, noted that the embroidered name tag on her uniform read Molly and took the offering. "Thank you."
The soft fragrant cotton felt good against his hot face and he wiped his eyes and nose, looking over at her. "Don't feel bad. You aren't the first to cry at coming home."
"It's not just that. It's just … "
"All the well-wishers?"
"Yeah. It was easier to fight than to face the people."
"They mean well."
"I know they do." He paused to swallow against the lump in his throat. "We … we weren't allowed to feel while we were over there. Over there, you see these people who have lived in absolute poverty and are facing starvation and most of the time, during the day, they clap you on the back and thank you for freeing them from Saddam, then, in the dark, they shoot at you and try to blow you up while you're eating or sleeping … " He took a long, deep breath. "It's so gratifying to know, to really know that the people thanking you really mean it."
Her mouth covered his and he gasped at the warmth that flooded his body. It had been a long time since he'd felt the touch of a woman. "Come with me."
He hefted his bags and followed her into the concourse, then down a locked entryway that opened into an electrical closet. She yanked him inside, slammed the door shut behind them and launched herself at him, unbuttoning her uniform top as she locked lips with him. She tasted of tomatoes and spices and his mouth burned with the heat that her tongue shared, his body fired by her raw responses. She raised his hands to her chest and warm, glorious breasts filled his palms, the hard nipples sliding between his fingers. She moaned into his mouth as he squeezed them, once, then harder the second time, closing his fingers and pinching her nipples between them.
Her hand rubbed the outside of his desert fatigues and his cock arose to her touch, straining against the fabric. He released her breasts and concentrated his efforts on pulling the uniform off of her while she worked on unlocking his webbed belt. The tiny buttons proved to be much harder and she wrenched her mouth from his, dropping to her knees and feverishly working on the buttons. The liquid warmth of her mouth on his cock told him that she'd successfully navigated the buttons and he had to seriously think about something else so he wouldn't cum right away.
Thankfully, she didn't stay down there long. She affixed her mouth to his again, whimpering as his fingers hooked into the sides of her panties, shoving them down to the floor. He bent and took one of her hard nipples into his mouth, giving it a thorough licking before turning her around and shoving his seven inch cock into her wet hole. She moaned, grabbing onto a huge metal cabinet as he began to pound into her, his hands on her breasts and his mouth on her neck.
He didn't have to say anything to her. She arched her back, seating herself on his pole each time and driving him deep into her body. He'd penetrated her so deeply that when she came, he thought he'd slipped out of her and that her hand was squeezing him. Her trembling body brought him quickly back to reality and she began to move again, her teeth gritted as she thrust backward against him, helping him drive into her. A few pumps later, she froze again, her cunt twitching around his prick and sending him into the stratosphere.
Henry grunted, groaning into her ear as he exploded into her body, filling her creamy hole with gobs of sticky cum. He shivered with aftershocks as he pulled out of her and stepped back, enjoying the pleasure that coursed through his body. She pulled more tissue from her pocket, cleaned both of them up and discarded them in a nearby trash can. It took another few minutes before their clothes were back in order and Molly commandeered a cart, taking him to his departing flight.
"Here's your flight." She leaned close and pressed a kiss to his mouth. "Good luck." He grabbed his bags and strode toward the check-in desk. "And thanks, soldier."
Henry smiled, gave her a mock salute and handed his ticket to the attendant. He was ushered onto the plane and this time, when he received claps and handshakes, he smiled, buckling himself into his seat and closing his eyes in comfort, now homeward bound.
Send private anonymous feedback to the author (to post a public comment instead).