Stag/Vixen

After my first competition, my husband and I signed a contract with a fitness trainer who had a solid reputation in the field. We both were dedicated to this decision. Me, for the growth I felt every day as I worked toward a goal I wanted to achieve. My husband for both his mental as well as physical health.

Everything was going the way we planned when a phone call changed everything.

I came home from one of my part-time jobs, and my husband was waiting. His Reserve Unit was being activated... he was headed back to the sun and sand of the Middle East.

We both knew this could happen; after all that's the way he signed up. For Christ's sake... we talked about the possibility of this happening plenty of times.

After a few kitchen items were broken into tiny pieces against the wall, we ended up in bed. It was a night I will never forget. We made love. We made rough and savage love. Then we did it all again. Hell, our honeymoon wasn't this hot. It was like he was leaving in an hour. We had plenty of time to prepare... (Oops, not this time).

Before he left, he had the chance to see me compete for the second time. I finished Fifth out of a large field of beautiful woman. I was feeling more confident about my body, and my husband was so proud of me. He said over and over how he felt, and I could see his chest about to burst. We made wonderful love that night.

Then there was the night before he left. He had a problem. No matter what I did, it was just not to be our night. The next day, it was easy to see his pain, even in the way we stood together with his hand in mine; he was crushed. No matter how many times I told him about how much I loved him, he had to fight to maintain his pride. There were tears. Tears I couldn't dry with my kisses.

I knew, or I had a pretty good idea why he had a difficult time that night. I knew it was the tension of what might happen during his deployment. He had seen it before, and it haunted him every day and almost every night.

I have never been this consumed with fear, like the fear I felt when I didn't hear from him. Too many days and too many hours were ripping through every fiber in my heart. Every day was filled with news reports of casualties. All I could find out was he was safe.

This shit had gone on long enough. I contacted the Red Cross and told them of my problem. Fourteen hours later, I was on the phone with him. I could breathe again.

About a month into his second trip out of the country, I sent him a picture of me masturbating. Those were still the days you took the picture with you pocket-sized camera, set it on the dresser and jumped into bed before it snapped the picture (it took several tries to get it right). A month later, I received a camo-colored sock with a giant cum-stain. I framed that sock, and it's still in my drawer beside the bed.

*THE STAG*

I knew from her letters; she was having a rough time. She was working two almost full-time jobs, and one that was only when they called for a photo shoot. She did this week after week, saving money for "our" dream home, where we would live our "normal" lives. We had talked about my sex life, and her sex life when I was away, but this was anything but normal. Somewhere along the line we forgot about who we are now becoming. We were not the same couple. I certainly was not the same man in that monkey suit at our wedding. She was not the same woman that pushed wedding cake up my nose.

With my nightmares of her suffering with a piece of plastic and rubber dildo, I was about to go crazy. Add on top of that, all the pressure and fear you lived with day in and day out. Is this the patrol where they finally get you? Is that a mine you're about to step on? Is that cute little girl strapped with a suicide bomb?

So, I came to a decision... one she would never make without my permission. I wrote two letters. One was giving permission for our friend and fitness trainer to have sex with my wife. I knew he was married and very much in love with his wife.... Plus, he was aware of my problems.

The second letter went to my loving, self-enslaved wife. I told her about the first letter, and then I told her it didn't have to be our friend, but I would want to know who it was. Somewhere in the back of my mind I was thinking I might run into him on the street one day and the embarrassment would be crushing (I was in a warzone, so nothing made sense).

That night, after both letters were on their way to the States, was the first night I had a nightmare free night. I slept.

At least once or maybe ten times a day, I would feel my gut twisting and churning about what I had done. But the deed had been done, and I couldn't change it if I wanted. In the back of my mind was a little voice that told me to enjoy the new feelings.... I would grow to look forward to those feelings. And that little voice was right.

*THE VIXEN*

Now, as a certified Fitness trainer, I had to set aside even more of my precious time for clients. I was able to work out a schedule that let me take one of my jobs full-time, and one day was dedicated to my Fitness Business. I was able to do my work-out with my trainer for the competitions and spend the remainder working with my clients.

If you don't think a woman in my position isn't tempted... then you need to take a look around. Every guy, no matter the age or his physical condition, that walks through the front door to this gym, thinks he has a chance with any woman in the place. They either have that mind-set, or that's the goal. I don't care if it's to impress a woman or another man; he's there to impress.

Even if I say so myself, a sexy horny woman, like me, I could have the pick of the litter when it comes to lovers. But that was not to be... till I got that damn letter from my personal hometown hero I call "Snake".

I was so embarrassed by even the idea he sent a permission slip to the one man I worked with on a weekly basis. I tried to change my schedule around so I wouldn't be in the Gym at the same time as my Competition Coach.

The most upsetting thing that letter did was to plant the idea of cheating in my head. The idea it was okay for me to be unfaithful to, not only to my husband, but to be unfaithful to my marriage as well. Both were things I was having a hard time to accept.

Our time for a phone call was coming up, so I thought I could wait. When that time finally arrived (actually it was only one day). The conversation was all about how our lives were going. When our reports to each other and all the, "I miss you" and, "I love you" comments were finished. We both knew we were running out of time with this call. Neither of us had mentioned the letter.

When a voice interrupted our conversation to say we had only a few seconds remaining. He asked if I had received his last letter.

I said, "yes".

His words stuck in my mind. "And what do you think?"

"Only on one condition will I do what you suggest." There had been some interference on the line during our call, but it miraculously cleared when I stated my one condition. "Make me pregnant as soon as you get home."

In his usual glib way of facing challenges in his life. "I guess we're going to have a baby."

Somehow, all the endless statements of I'll be home in so many days, I love you and I miss you, all blended into the countless tears I had shed over these many months. The call came to an end. Confused, I didn't know how or even if I would go ahead with his crazy idea.

"Don't rush this little girl... don't rush this." was the phrase I repeated, almost as a mantra to the "Goddess Isis."

Then it happened.

Two days after the call, I was at the gym having lunch and my coach walked in and asked if he could sit with me. He just said how well I was doing. He thought I would be no worse than third or fourth in the next competition coming up in about a month. I put my hand up like a traffic cop to interrupt him.

"Did you get a letter from my husband?"

He was grinning. "My wife is out of town....so I'm available right now."

There was a hotel just across the street. As we rode the elevator to the third floor, I couldn't stop shaking. To be truthful, I wasn't shaking because of anything we were about to do in that room. I was shaking because I knew I was going to like this so much, and would I be able to stop once I stepped over that line.

We both walked calmly into that room. I started crying. I felt like I needed to run. He stepped closer and put his arms around me to calm the tears. My mind and body seemed confused, shaking, tingling and most of all, failing to resist the dangerous path I was on.

He put his strong hands on my waist and pressed his cheek tight against mine. I heard his whispers in my ear, but they were jumbled words sending confusing signals to my body. Then his hands moved upward to my breasts. In one swift and surprising motion removed both my shirt and my sports bra. There was no turning back.

His hands were rough and yet gentle. His kisses on my neck were invitations to what was to come. My knees grew weak from just the unfamiliar feel of a man. If I were clay, his words and hands would mold a masterpiece. Molding me into an obedient toy as though I were a child on my first pony ride.

I don't remember when I was completely nude. Memories of these moments passed from my mind as quickly as they were made. I remember his cock was thicker than any I had ever seen. It filled my hands like none before. I pressed the head of his cock against the opening to paradise and my body was ready. The fluids were flowing, and he took his time. But after several slow yet measured strokes, I came like an animal in heat. I had already cum once and was well on my way to another when his groin completed its journey to press against mine.

Suddenly the reality of the moment came to me. The one word that filled my mind was "condom". Was he wearing a condom.... I couldn't get pregnant. When his body rolled off mine and my eyes searched for what I wanted to see. I began to relax. He, at some point in this blinding session of lust, had put a condom on to protect us both. We lay next to each other without so much as a word.

Snake and I had been friends with this man for a number of years, and I never harbored any idea of sex, lust or coupling with him. He had always been the consummate professional. And now we had crossed that invisible line between friends to lovers.

I justified what I had just done, by saying I had permission from my husband. He knew, and I knew this was a necessity of our lives, if our lives were to survive this separation. I desperately needed sexual communication between myself and another human. I needed the touch, the hot sweaty body to remind me I was a woman first and a wife second; or should those two words be reversed.

I knew all the excuses. I had said them over and over since I let a boy in the tenth grade pull my panties down. There was no difference, it was just the same excuse only harder to say and even harder to believe. But I did believe it.

Lying next to this skilled lover and caressing his taught body with my fingers. I came to a new and more disgraceful reality. I wanted this to happen again.

The words, "It's still early," slipped so easily from his lips. I lowered my head to his groin. I held this monster next to my face and took all the time I needed to get my lips to fit around the head of his cock. This was going to be my way of thanking him for what he had given me.

Later, when all was said and done, we had taken our bodies around the world more than once. The only thing that remained was to face the guilt that consumed my mind and soul.

In the next couple months, I repeated my intimate visit with my friend on four occasions. Each time the guilt was less and less. Maybe it was just that my appetite for the feel of another man was growing, but I only cried for the husband I missed, and not for what I was doing with my body. These were the moments I grew to fear the most.

*THE STAG*

The trip home was very long, cold, and tiring. But there was nothing on God's green earth that would keep me from once again making love to my beautiful wife. There was one delay...it was the paperwork and my equipment. Clear sailing from then on to the closest Hotel. No motel room for my love; this was going to be a special night.

There I was, stark naked on top of a bed where the blanket and bedspread were pulled off and piled on the floor, and my wife is in the bathroom. "What the fuck are you doing in there."

"You'll see...."

The only thing I wanted to see was a naked lady I had been dreaming about for months, on her back with me inside her.

"Just one more minute," she yelled through the door.

"If you don't get in here right now.... Sargent Pepper and his band is going to march right out of here."

"Tell the Sarge to hold his pants on for just ten more seconds ... then he can do all the marching he wants." The door to the bathroom opened and around the corner walked the vision I had been dreaming of all these nights.

"I want you to see this." In her hand she held a plastic stick. She explained it was a pregnancy test, and it showed her NOT pregnant.

There was a long pause. I knew she had been having sex with her coach. But that was the furthest thing from my mind at that moment.

"This says... I'm not pregnant. Now you made me a promise. ... You had better get busy and make a momma of me, or we're gonna get into a big fight. In your weakened condition, I might just kick your ass."

We spent two days and nights in that hotel room. My in-laws were worried, so Samantha called and assured them we were fine. We both knew our lives would never be the same, but we completely avoided any discussion of what went on during my last deployment.

I was offered a job through contacts I had made while in the Reserves, and so I went right to work. It involved a screwy schedule, but Samantha, ever the organizer, figured out how we could make it work.

Several weeks had gone by when I found my wife sitting at the bottom of the bed. "It's time to move."

With that announcement, she stuck another plastic stick in my face. "You lived up to your bargain, but we really need to build our own lives somewhere else."

That's what we did. We found a development outside of Houston, in one of those little towns you never hear about, and we bought a home under construction. The house would be ready in about thirty- five days, and I would be a father in about six months. Everything was great. We were kicking ass and taking names.

Work was going well, and Samantha was healthy as any expectant mother could want. I worried about her size and the baby getting so big. She was such a tiny thing, and the baby was getting bigger and bigger. I talked to her belly and asked the baby to stop growing so fast. But you know mothers, especially this one, she had to keep on working right up to the big day. The nurse was trying to talk her into a c-section. She was having nothing to do with cutting her open. Several agonizing hours later.... let's just say mom and daughter were doing fine... but dad was a nervous wreck.

Life was pretty good for the three of us. Several sleepless nights, and all that goes with a growing family. We had a pool put in, and I built a tiki at the back that opened onto the patio from the dining room and another door from the master bedroom.

One thing we didn't count on, was the sex life was starting to take a major hit. It bothered me more than it did Samantha, but it was a bother.

One weekend we were having a pool party with a bunch of friends. Some of the guys from my Reserve outfit showed up with wives or dates, and of course there were friends from both our jobs and some of the neighbors. Mostly it was just adults. Those with kids were the folks that left just when the sun was going down.

As the night went on, everyone began to separate into groups of three or four people just shootin' the breeze; accept me. I was sitting alone with my feet in the water at the deep end of the pool. I saw my wife visiting with a couple of the guys in my old outfit, and I couldn't help but wonder what they were talking about.

Later that night, as we lay in bed after an infrequent tussle with the Sarge and his favorite little kitty, Samantha. I asked her what she was talking about with my Army buddies. She tried to blow it off, but I wouldn't let her.

"They thanked me for sending you those pictures of my photo shoots." The look of frustration with me signaled that I should just shut up and go to sleep.

"And what did you say?"

"I asked them how many of those pictures did you share with them?"

I didn't think I was grinning, but her frustration turned to anger. "And what did they say?"

"You know damn well you showed them all my pictures. In point of fact...asshole... It kind of turned me on, knowing they had seen me naked."

"You should have taken pictures of you and Coach.... They would have really enjoyed that."

The shocked look on her face was something I could never describe. She was caught with nothing to say. Or so I thought.

"Maybe I'll give Coach a call and we can fix the problem of no pictures." With a huff, she turned away from me and that was the end of that conversation.

I had to work the next two nights, so I didn't have a chance to talk with my wife, where we could get anything solved. But I knew what I needed to say. When we had the Princess in her bed and sleeping, we retired to the bedroom. When she looked at me with expectations; I cut her off. That's when I said. "We needed to get this figured out...we needed to clear the air." I took a deep breath and began.... "Have you noticed anything different in the last four or five months?"

"Different how," she asked?

"Are you having an affair with the Coach or anyone else?"

She immediately pushed me away. "You rotten son of a bitch! You and I made a deal... I would do what you wanted, and I would get a baby... You have the nerve to ask me that. What the fuck do you think? No, I'm not fucking anybody, but I did it before, I could do it again. And if you don't watch out you fucker, you'll be paying for this house by yourself."

"Hold on a minute.... please, let me tell you what I saw the other night. I saw you flirting with my guys at the party."

"I wasn't flirting, I was embarrassed by the guys that have seen my pussy with a dildo in it." She didn't cry or slap my face or anything. She just stared me down. I had hurt her deeply and I didn't know how to calm the flames.

The next day was an off day for me, so I did everything in my power to be a help to my wife. I apologized a hundred times, at least it seemed like a hundred times. When I took a shot at cooking diner, and it was burnt to a crisp, my wife laughed. We ended up having dinner with a four-year-old at one of the most expensive restaurants in the city.

That night, all was forgiven, and my wife and I made love and then we did it again. Just like we used to do in the days before my job and the pride of our lives kept getting in the way (the munchkin).

*THE VIXEN*

My husband, the Snake and I got pretty close to throwing our hands in the air and giving up. I wasn't about to let that happen. Having a normal life together became harder and harder. There were weeks when the only communications we had with each other was a note on the refrigerator. Both of us had worked and slaved and worked some more to get everything we had dreamed about from the day we met. That's when we came to the realization, we were working to kill the love we had for each other. That was not to be. I knew from the very beginning; we were perfect for each other. I would never give up on us.... never.!

For the sake of everything worth loving, we lived in that garage for what felt like forever, just so we could save for a new home. I stayed there during all those nights alone and wanting. And now that we had our dream home, our dream family. I wasn't in the mood to give away the life we had worked so hard to achieve. We were worth fighting for.