He’s Got Her Back [adult]
My wife finds comfort in the loyalty of another man.
When I meet the man who fucked my wife, I’m going to shake his hand and thank him.
“You had her back.”
There’s a lot I didn’t know about those months she was gone. It was a hard time. She had her crises away, and mine were all at home.
I probably wouldn’t have known what happened if not for putting some of her clothes away after she got back. There was a note in her lingerie drawer from a man. It was handwritten on a notecard with a flag emblem I did not recognize.
“It was an honor and a privilege to serve at your side.”
Underneath the card was a silky white thong. It had a velvet stain under the waistband. I could still smell the alcohol and a fainter smell of something else.
I left the mysterious items on the bed one night when we were getting ready to make love. I hopped in the shower with her, and let her get out first.
When I dried off and went into the bedroom, she was wearing nothing else but the thong. She had pulled it over her slick folds and was rubbing herself. I crawled next to her in bed.
“You’re going to tell me everything,” I said.
Sergeant-at-arms
My wife helps people for a living, but it’s been a while since she’s been called to the “field.” There was a tent city for people who lost their homes to fire, and she was there to make sure they had what they needed to live with dignity.
There was a patchwork of men and women in uniform, bureaucrats from agencies big and small, politicians, and civilians just trying to help turn a maze of tents into a community. But it was obvious who was in charge.
Men turn everything into battles. In Vietnam, the war extended to determining the shape of the bargaining table— true story.
My wife sits at the end of a long, rectangular table. When she tries to make her voice heard, powerful men in fatigues wait until they hear her stop saying words as they doodle pictures of their little dicks.
There’s a momentary silence. “That’s never going to work,” says one of the doodlers.
Then he steps in. “No, I think she’s right.”
There are looks of disapproval but resignation. Reason prevails. She smiles at him, even though she is slightly annoyed. She will take help in any way it comes as long as the end goal is in mind.
At first, she didn’t like that he was assigned to her. She didn’t need a bodyguard or whatever he was. Sure, people were desperate, but they were happy to have the help. He felt like more of a minder who would go back and put out a report to his superiors on an overly clicky typewriter.
They were together enough, and he proved himself enough, that the mistrust faded away. She warmed to his company. He was on her side.
“Do you know what they say about you,” he told her.
“What?”
“Devil’s tongue. Angel’s ass,” he said.
She laughed and said she didn’t know which was more of a compliment.
Hard decisions
She got back to her office one night finally feeling good about how things were going. It was a subtle sign of her seniority that she had four walls in this city made of heavy-duty canvas. And next to her desk was the cot she slept on.
What was missing was a connection to share her moment with. She thought of calling me, but she knew she would be catching me during the painstaking bedtime routines.
She was also feeling horny and she was woefully unprepared. If we were ever in a fight when she went somewhere, she left her vibrators at home. She found it hard to enjoy herself when a connection was frayed.
But now, a new connection was emerging.
She felt it was fruitless to touch herself. She would never be able to make herself come.
But the gentle touches felt good on her body. Her nipples tingled to her touch.
She was thinking of him, the man who had her back. He was maybe 10 years younger. He was a bigger guy, strong. Just her type. His face was chiseled, like his body. It lacked the warmth she looked for in a man, but she found the way he smiled at her, sometimes laughed at her, endearing.
She took off her t-shirt and removed her bra. Her nipples were the only thing on her body that you could ever say were thick or fat. They looked like they would explode with milk with the slightest touch. And while no liquid emerged when she began to rub them, her touch released an energy that flowed through her body.
She imagined him sucking her tits.
Emergencies are a funny thing — or maybe ironic is the right word. The people helping out are on the one hand grateful for what they have: maybe a loving family, a stable roof over their heads, a wall calendar that shows what meals they will eat seven days out. On the other, people with nothing but the clothes on their back reveal the fragility of life. Tomorrow, it could be your house that goes up in flames.
She felt a sense of making the most of every moment. And in that moment, she wanted intimacy. Actually, she’d be fine with a good fuck.
She thought of texting me and seeing what I thought about a hookup. But she thought that could be the end of things — our life torn asunder by the mere threat of a tornado coming our way.
Slowly, she pulled her hands away from her nipples and picked up her phone. She thought for a moment.
“Is there any way to get wine around here?” she texted.
“What kind?” he texted back a minute later.
“Cab?”
“Is that red?”
“Sure, red will do just fine.”
“Give me 10 minutes.”
She freshened up and then dug through her suitcase. Under a pile of clothes was a white thong. She took off her jeans, put on a silkier bra, and changed into her only dress.
Hooking up
He was surprised to greet her at the door in the outfit she reserved for high-ranking guests.
“Your black dress,” he said. “Someone important coming over?”
“Get in here,” she said, “hurry.”
She didn’t love the risk, but the camp seemed dead. He came in and set two paper cups on her desk and pulled out a corkscrew. He could tell she was lost in thought.
“You OK?” he asked.
“Yeah, just a long day, I guess.”
She had no idea what she was doing. She couldn’t remember the last time she was alone in a room with a bed with a man who wasn’t her husband. And she knew what she had set in motion.
He filled the two cups with wine and they tapped them together. “To friendship,” she said, and downed the wine like it was in a shot glass.
He refilled her glass, looking at her a little funny.
“What I mean is, I just wanted to thank you for being there for me,” she said.
“No need to thank me,” he said.
They looked at each other silently. In the “real world,” she would have written him off as an asshole. It was something about the way he carried himself. But here, he was the kind of person she needed to go to battle with.
My wife hugged him gently, leaning in on his sturdy body. He pulled her close with his strong hands. She pulled away slowly, sliding her hands from his broad shoulders down to his hand, which she took in hers.
She smiled at him, and when he smiled back she laughed awkwardly.
“Will you kiss me?” she said.
She closed her eyes and leaned up, finding his soft lips against hers and opening her mouth for his tongue. They made out for several minutes. She liked his kiss. Of course, it had to feel different. Maybe it was slightly sloppy, but she liked it.
She wondered if it was obvious to him what should happen next. They were consenting adults in a moment that might not repeat itself. A kiss was just the initiation. He must know that, right?
“Do you have protection?” she asked.
“Ummm, uh, yeah.”
“Confident, huh?”
“Well, uh, I just didn’t think…”
She interrupted him with a kiss, and from there, things sped up. Her hand went straight to his crotch, and he moved his sturdy hands over her dress and squeezed her tits.
He grabbed her at the waist and turned her around, sitting her on the desk. He pulled the dress down over her shoulders. Her bra came down with it. He kissed her neck and quickly made his way down to her nipples. She held her breasts in her hands and angled her nipples in and out of his restless mouth.
My wife opened her legs as he slid her dress up over her hips and started to kiss over her white, silky thong. He pulled the thong out of her ass so he could get a mouthful of pussy.
It felt like she was getting licked for the first time, on her wedding night. I had waited all my life for that first moment to kiss the bride. And when we were alone in the hotel room I dove up into the fluffy folds of her wedding dress in search of her pussy.
I was overeager, moving too fast for her to feel anything. And that’s what she was feeling now.
Great, she thought. Her first time with another man and she’s thinking of her wedding night. Her mind began to speed around in circles. She thought about home, and work, and the man she didn’t know two weeks ago with his tongue between her folds…and then back to home and to work again.
“Oh, shit,” she said. “Did you send that email about our visit tomorrow?”
He stopped licking her and stood up. It was clear he was trying not to look annoyed as leaned in on her in an imposing way.
“I’m off duty, so I don’t need to listen to you,” he said, grabbing the bottle of wine. He stuck it into her mouth and tipped the bottle up until the wine was racing through her lips.
“Mmmmmmmmmh,” she said as the wine spilled out over her chin, between her breasts, and seeped down under the elastic waistband of her panties.
“I don’t really swallow,” she said, as he pulled the bottle away.
He laughed. And she got on her knees. Her hands were shaking when she unbuckled his belt and took down his zipper. If he noticed, he didn’t let on. His hard cock popped out quickly when she pulled down his pants. He was thick and his ball hair was trimmed low. She slowly took the shiny top of his cock in her mouth as she jerked him.
She closed her eyes and stroked him maybe 15 or 20 times before working up the courage to look up at him with the bright blue of her eyes. He had the look of a lucky man. And to prove the point, she took his dick and slapped it against her tongue like it was a plaything.
“I need you to fuck me,” she said. “Can you do that?”
He offered her his hand and pulled her up for a kiss. She crawled on the cot. He came behind her and she leaned her angel ass back towards his pointy dick. He grabbed her cheeks hard.
“I’ve wanted you so bad,” he said.
“So fuck me,” she said.
There was a long pause as he fumbled around with the plastic foil. She looked back to see him pulling the rubber over his firm cock. “Sorry, it’s been a while,” he said.
“Lick me first,” she said. “Get me wet.”
He spit on her ass and pushed his saliva down and around over her pussy. He stood up and took her ass in his hands again, pressing his dick up against her opening. Slowly, he pushed his dick between her widening fingers, which she was using to let her pussy breathe.
The rubber didn’t feel so good at first. He was going slow enough that the texture was tugging against the saliva on her sensitive skin.
“Harder,” she said. “Come on, fuck me.”
She didn’t usually come from penetration, and she knew she had a narrow window of time before that good feeling went bad. She clumped the white sheets of the cot in her hands and squeezed her pussy over his dick as he pumped her harder. His shaft didn’t feel very different from what she was used to, but it was the hardness of his body — those rock-hard thighs — that stood out. It was like she was slamming her ass cheeks back against a brick wall.
“Yes, harder,” she said.
Against his better judgment, he kept thrusting hard.
“Oh, yesss,” she shouted. “Almost there.”
“I could tell when he was coming,” my wife said, as she climbed up on me and stuck my dick inside her. “He was groaning so loud and his body was shivering.”
I began to moan as my wife began to thrust down on me.
“But he kept going, slamming me so hard,” she said. “It was like he willed me to come. The more I moaned, the harder he fucked me until my juices started trickling and splashing down over my legs. And he kept going, and more came out.”
She felt my body begin to tremble.
“I had to beg him to stop,” she said.
“Uhhhhhh, fuck,” I moaned as she pressed her body down hard against me. She started to moan too and our moans intensified as our bodies merged. I yelled out as I froze and released my cum inside her. My dick continued to throb as she collapsed over my chest.
After a few minutes, I thought she had fallen asleep. She was breathing deeply.
“I have to tell you something,” she said.
“What is it?”
“He didn’t write that note.”
“Who did?”
“Next time,” she said.
And she rolled off my body and turned around to go to sleep.