Nereids Ch. 07

He nodded and then yawned.

Beth sighed in relief and gazed at her watch. "Okay, go." This time, she counted quietly, "One... two... three... four... five..."

At twenty seconds, she began counting by fives. At one minute, she congratulated him and kept counting, her voice a steady metronome of encouragement. A minute later his eyes began to droop. He mumbled something, but she gently stroked his temple and continued her count, her voice soft and soothing. Finally, he closed his eyes and they stayed closed. She waited until his breathing grew regular.

She smoothed his hair and gazed down at him. He looks so much like his father.

At the thought of David, she almost stood. But Paul was so peaceful that she stayed by him, simply enjoying the quiet. After a moment she kissed his forehead and stood. When he didn't stir, she left the room and quietly shut the door behind her.

David was waiting for her in the living room. He'd changed into comfortable clothes and was sitting in his chair with the newspaper. Her step faltered when she saw his stormy expression. He folded the paper and tried to look happy to see her. He wasn't a good actor.

She knew him well enough to realize that he was upset about something he'd read, rather than something she'd done (or not done). She also realized that he wasn't in the mood anymore, so she pasted on her fake smile and hid her disappointment.

"Paul's excited that you're home," she said, trying to sound normal. "He was telling me about the cabin he wants to build for you two."

At the mention of his son, David's expression changed entirely. He smiled, and Beth felt her heart leap. It was the same smile she'd fallen in love with, half cocky, half bemused. He set the paper aside and gestured for her to sit on his lap.

She rested her head on his shoulder and felt his tension ease as she hugged him. He'd lost weight. She could feel it in his chest and arms. His stomach was too hard beneath his shirt, and his cheeks looked hollow.

His letters hadn't told her much about combat, but she could read between the lines. He didn't eat enough when he was under stress. He'd done the same thing in college, losing fifteen pounds during one especially tough quarter. She hoped to fatten him up with her cooking and a relaxed home life. But first, she wanted to take care of more immediate needs—his and hers both.

"How long will the kids be asleep?" he asked, as if sensing her mood.

"A couple of hours."

He nodded.

"Do you want to...?"

He shook his head. "Not yet."

She looked a question at him. He shrugged, and she felt a momentary jolt of anxiety.

"It's not that I don't want to," he said slowly, searching for words. "But..." He shrugged again. "I guess I don't want to rush things."

"We can wait," she said softly, although she wanted anything but.

"I don't want that, either." He laughed, more at himself than anything else.

"What?"

"I still can't believe I'm home..."

Beth frowned at the non sequitur.

"It's the same place I remember, but it's not. Does that make sense? It's like my memory is black and white, but the real place is Technicolor. It's almost... surreal."

She laid her hand on his chest.

"On the ship, all I could think about was home."

"And now that you're home, you think about the ship?" she wondered, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice.

He shook his head, almost angrily. Then he grew thoughtful.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head again, although he looked sad more than anything else. He chuckled apologetically.

"What?"

"I almost said, 'You wouldn't understand,' but that's probably the most insulting thing I could say. It's not your fault you can't understand."

"Understand what? Try me."

"The ship... Vietnam... It's a different place. I don't want to bring it home with me."

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

He snorted softly.

"You don't," she insisted, unsure what else to say.

"Yes, I do. I can't help it. I want to leave it behind, but I can't."

She wanted to ask "Why not?" but she bided her time. She knew he'd answer the question in his own time.

"The men who plan the war...," he said slowly, deliberately, "McNamara and the rest... they don't know what they're doing. And they try to sell their propaganda to us, as if we don't know what's really going on. Worse, they're a bunch of Ivy League know-it-alls, not fighting men." He scoffed. "None of them have ever seen the elephant."

Beth didn't know what the phrase meant, but she understood its implication.

"They're more worried about numbers than results," David continued. "I talked to an F-105 pilot who—and I swear to God this is true—who flew a mission with one bomb. I'm not kidding. His squadron had eight bombs left in the depot, but they needed to fly eight sorties to meet their quota. One plane could carry all eight bombs, but that would only count as one sortie. So they hung one bomb on each plane and flew their mission.

"They risked eight guys' lives just for some bean-counter quota," he said. "I'd like to send Secretary McNamara into Route Pack Six with one bomb. We'll see how long he lasts. Or let him attack a 'suspected ammo dump' and see if he isn't pissed off that he just risked his life to obliterate a patch of worthless jungle. And don't even get me started on their dumbshit Rules of Engagement..."

Beth didn't know what to say, so she did the only thing she could—she held him and reassured him with the comfort of her body.

"The newspapers talk about what a good job we're doing," David said, "but they don't talk about what it costs, or the utter stupidity of the armchair generals running things from Washington, playing God with men's lives." He took a deep breath.

"Ah, hell," he said at last. "What do I know? I'm just a lieutenant, junior grade."

"But you were there," she said softly. "You did your job and you did it well."

"Yeah."

"You came home, and that's all that matters."

"But what about the guys who didn't come home? What about guys like Keith Olin? What about them, Mister Secretary?"

Beth shushed him. "You can't do anything about Keith," she said, tears welling at the emotion in her husband's voice.

"Yeah," he said sullenly. "That's the problem."

"The only thing you can do is live your life," she said quietly. "You've got a son and daughter who love you, and a wife who does too."

He looked at her and his eyes turned soulful.

"I know I can't possibly understand what it was like," she said, "but that doesn't mean I don't care. You can't tell me all of it..."

He shook his head curtly.

"...and you probably don't want to. But I can still be here for you. I always will be, you know. No matter what."

He smiled ironically. Then he grew thoughtful, and gazed at her quietly.

"You don't have to talk about Vietnam if you don't want to." She shrugged. "You're not there now, you're here. Here with your wife and your family. Here with the people who love you."

"Yeah, you're right," he said at last.

"Of course I am," she said, smiling warmly. Then she sat up and gazed at him, her expression serious. "You only have one immediate problem to deal with."

"Oh?"

"Mmm hmm. Me."

His eyebrows arched.

"I've been waiting nine months for you to get home, and if you don't make love to me soon, I'm going to explode."

He grinned, cocky and amused. Then he turned serious.

She suddenly felt unsure of herself. "What?"

"You know... marrying you was the smartest thing I ever did."

She gazed into his eyes and felt her own begin to fill with moisture. Then she kissed him, hard. "I love you," she breathed between kisses. "I love you, and I've missed you."

He reached for the satin bow at the back of her dress, and she straddled his hips.

"I've missed you so much," she breathed as he untied the bow.

**

"Spread your legs," Jack said.

Susan grinned mischievously. She spread her legs, but laid her hand over her pussy.

Jack simply tilted his head with an unspoken command.

She moved her hand.

His glance flicked to her legs. "Wider," he said, his eyes moving back to her hairless pussy. The lips parted, revealing her pink inner folds. He grinned lecherously. "Nice."

She gave him a playful look.

"Finger yourself."

She sucked her middle finger, her lips pursed as she held his gaze. Then she deliberately buried her finger in her pussy, her eyes never leaving his.

"Nice," he said, and began stroking himself. His balls ached from earlier, but he didn't move toward the bed. He wasn't patient, but he was disciplined, and he wanted to make her wait.

She closed her eyes and began fucking herself with her finger. She moaned softly, her flattened breasts quivering as her finger moved faster.

He knew that she could get off by playing with herself, but he also knew that she wanted to suck him. Her orgasms were always strongest when she got off while giving head. He smiled to himself and finally moved toward the bed.

She opened her eyes when she felt him kneel beside her. She gazed at his erection and unconsciously moistened her lips.

"Do you want to suck me?" he asked, teasing her.

She nodded.

"Are you going to be a tease?"

She shook her head, her mouth open, yearning for his shaft.

"Are you sure?"

She strained, silently pleading with him.

"All right," he said, shuffling forward on his knees.

She wrapped her lips around his shaft and sucked greedily. He closed his eyes and grunted—the head of his dick was super-sensitive. He held her head and thrust more of his cock into her mouth. She sucked hard, her cheeks caving in. He threw his head back and tried to concentrate on anything but the feeling of her soft lips around his shaft. He wanted her to come before he did, so he gazed at a point high on the wall.

Beneath him, Susan sucked his cock, taking it as deep as she could. He could tell that she was close to orgasm. She half-grunted and strained to swallow more of his cock. A moment later her fingers went into overdrive and she moaned around his shaft, her face crimson from exertion. Then she let out an explosive breath and stiffened.

When she finally relaxed, her breath whistled through her nose as she nursed his cock. He let her rest for a moment, but then slowly pulled his erection from her mouth. His shaft was red and shiny, the head purple.

Susan stared up at him with sightless eyes. Then she focused on his face and the look of intelligence returned. She knew what he wanted, and she rolled to her back with an inviting smile.

Jack spent a moment simply gazing at her hairless pussy, moist and puffy from her fingers. Then he climbed between her legs, his dick bouncing as he moved. He lowered his hips and inserted the head. She gasped—she was still sensitive—so he took his time. When his hips ground against her thighs, he stopped and simply looked down at her.

Her eyes were glassy with lust, but filled with love. She smiled up at him and stroked his arms, her chest still heaving from her exertions.

"Okay," she said at last.

He arched an eyebrow, a final "Are you sure?" gesture.

Her nostrils flared as she took a deep breath. Then she nodded.

His first thrusts were slow and gentle, until he was sure she wasn't too sensitive. When she urged him on with her eyes, he began moving faster, her breasts bouncing with each thrust.

He didn't last long. The familiar pressure of an orgasm began at the back of his balls and surged forward. He sat back on his haunches and pulled out, his dick shiny with her juices. He stroked himself once, twice, and then groaned. He scooted closer, his cock aimed at her pussy.

The first surge caught him by surprise, pleasure exploding through his body, shooting along his nerves. The second surge came a moment later, his dick gushing as he stroked it. He closed his eyes and held his breath as the sensation continued, his entire body stiff.

When he finally opened his eyes again, she was smiling up at him. He relaxed and sagged back, panting. Then he looked down at the white droplets of semen on her tanned skin. A rivulet had run down her slit, making it even shinier than her own moisture had.

She smiled and reached for him. He bent over her, his shrinking erection trapped between them.

"Welcome home, sailor," she said, her voice husky with affection.

"I bet you say that to all the guys," he said. Then he kissed her, cutting off her reply.

She didn't seem to mind.

**

Beth held David's head as he nuzzled her breasts. Her light yellow dress was bunched at her waist, the satin ribbon long since discarded. David loved her breasts as much as she loved his dick.

Her breath caught at the thought of his dick. She could feel the bulge against her thigh, and her pussy was slippery with desire, but she bided her time. What a sacrifice, she thought wryly, enjoying herself as David lavished attention on her nipples.

She wanted to unzip his fly and pull out his hard-on, but she knew she'd never be able to. He was too long and too hard, and his fly was simply too small.

Oh well, she thought gaily, I'll just have to take his pants off. C'est la vie!

But first, she had to get his mouth away from her chest. She didn't mind him sucking her nipples, but she had more important things to suck.

She pushed him back and tilted her head to kiss him. His face was smooth, his lips damp from licking and sucking. She tasted his breath and inhaled a whiff of his spicy cologne, which made her head spin with desire. She finally broke the kiss and climbed from his lap.

With an eager look, she knelt between his legs. Then she ran her hands along his thighs—the heel of her right hand pressed firmly against his trapped erection—and reached for his belt buckle. She undid it quickly, popping the button of his pants a moment later. The zipper hissed and she made a show of moistening her lips in anticipation.

She didn't need to tell him to lift his hips. With practiced ease, she pulled his pants and underwear down, freeing his erection. She rose on her knees, her bare breasts brushing his shins.

She inhaled the scent of his manhood as she kissed her way up his thigh. Then she seized his shaft with one hand and held it out of the way, tilting her head to kiss his heavy balls. She couldn't hold back for long, though, and felt her desire building to an uncontrollable level.

He groaned when she surrounded the tip of his dick with her lips. He groaned again as she swallowed him inch by inch, her lips around his shaft, her tongue caressing him. She wanted to swallow as much of him as she could, but she knew he wouldn't last that long. Not the first time, at least. She could suck him longer the second time, but that was for later. Besides, she was as eager as he was, and she wanted to taste him.

She bobbed up and down, her lips caressing the smooth skin of his shaft. He grunted once and thrust his hips upward. Beth smelled his come before she tasted it, before she felt it gush against the back of her throat. His dick pulsed and showered her tongue with a second blast. She swallowed, the scent of semen filling her nostrils. He shot a third time and then a fourth, the spurts slowing to gushes and then to a trickle. She swallowed, the heat of his come warming her throat and chest.

He was still hard when she pulled back and grinned up at him. He could have sex twice in ten minutes, the first time quick, the second lasting much longer. The head of his dick was usually too sensitive immediately after his orgasm, though, so she made sure not to touch it.

She thought about playing with him until he was ready for round two, but he had other ideas. He gently pushed her away and stood up, his dick bobbing in her direction. He looked down at her for a moment, his eyes soft and full of love. Then he lifted her to her feet. While he took off his shirt, she kicked away her dress and stepped into his arms.

His erection pressed against her stomach as he held her. She could feel his ribs, and a detached part of her mind decided to fix a big dinner, complete with his favorite dishes. But then she pushed that thought aside and concentrated on his heartbeat. It was strong and regular, thudding in time with the pulsing in his shaft.

They held each other for several long moments, neither feeling the need to move. Then he gently lowered her to the floor. He grinned above her and began kissing his way down her chest. He paused to nuzzle her breasts before going lower.

She squirmed in anticipation, her insides boiling with desire. He spread her legs with his shoulders and she reached down to run her fingers through the soft bristles of his hair.

He swirled his tongue around her sensitive clit and she cried out—quietly, lest she wake the children. She closed her eyes in ecstasy. He licked her again, his tongue flicking upward. Her whole body tingled with sensation, hot and liquid and electric.

He started licking her in earnest and she gripped his head. Her legs rested on his shoulders, her feet flat on the floor. He held her hips, his tongue wagging through her folds, driving her higher. Her breathing grew shallow and rapid, and she could feel her stomach heaving with shockwaves of pleasure.

She wanted to cry out, to moan in pleasure, but she bit her lip instead. She could imagine Paul walking from his bedroom and discovering them on the living room floor. She almost laughed at the mental image of herself explaining what Daddy had been doing to Mommy. She didn't think "eating pussy" would make sense to a three-year-old.

Fortunately, David sucked her clit and she forgot all about her son. He sucked again and she forgot her name.

What's in a name? she thought whimsically, trying not to giggle.

Her nascent laughter turned into a groan as David flicked his tongue along her slit. She held his head and bucked her hips, trying to force more of his mouth against her mound. He obliged, and hot waves of pleasure rushed through her body.

It took her a moment to realize that David had stopped licking her. Instead, he was settling himself above her. His dog tags swung before her eyes like a hypnotist's bauble, but he threw them over his back. She focused on his face for a moment, but then she felt the fat head of his dick at her opening.

She gasped and clamped her eyes shut at the immense pleasure as he slid inside her. Heat and pressure assaulted her, and she imagined she could feel every inch—every vein—as he buried himself inside her.

Someone groaned when his hips ground against her. After a moment Beth realized that she'd made the guttural sound. She groaned again and pulled David down to kiss him.

Fireworks burst in her brain and she kissed him with fiery passion, tasting her own juices on his lips. She had a flash of Susan and immediately thrust her hips against him.

He began moving within her, his thick shaft spreading her open with each thrust. She felt her muscles contracting with the first twinges of orgasm, but David simply battered through, driving her higher.

Between imagining what Susan's pussy would taste like and the pounding of David's dick, Beth quickly lost herself. Her orgasm started small but built to a crescendo, rolling over her like a symphony of sight and sound and feeling.

She caught glimpses of David's surprise at the unexpected tightness of her pussy. She heard him grunt as he forced himself through her clenching muscles. She closed her eyes, ecstasy overwhelming her senses.

Her first orgasm had barely died away when she felt the second one building. David continued pounding into her, his dick hitting something deep inside her and sending her over the edge, plunging her into a shuddering, rolling climax.