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The last thing anyone expected Jenna to do was marry a soldier. She knew how tough that life was going to be. The next to last thing anyone else expected from Jenna was to cry while he was gone. Yet she missed him so much. She didn’t want to show it most days, but she missed him. But the night Jonathan finally came home, it made every tear worth it.
Jenna wasn’t one to show a lot of emotion. That’s not something that comes naturally to her. It wasn’t that she led a tough life growing up, but there just wasn’t a lot of hugs and tears that flowed through her house. Daddy was a Chief Master Sergeant in the Air Force who came and went. Mom stood strong when he was gone, stood stronger when he came back so that he didn’t “upset the flow” of the house she created. That flow included a hell of a sports schedule, from swimming to soccer. She got a tough body out of it. That nice, athletic look that wasn’t too muscular to overcome the feminine qualities she possessed. She had strong legs still, even if it had been 5 or so years since she’s been on any kind of field. They weren’t very long, as Jenna was petite. She barely cleared 5’3”, but you wouldn’t know it by the way she carried herself. Her tan arms were always showing in some sort of T-shirt and jeans combo. Chestnut-colored hair pulled back most days, if it wasn’t pushing through a baseball cap. When she asked for anything or made a demand, she would look straight up at you, pierce you with her sky-colored irises, say what she needed to say, and then purse her bow lips until you responded. It was intimidating to many.
Many, except for Jonathan. She met him at the local grocery store she managed. He was in his Air Force uniform trying to buy apples. He stood about 6 foot tall and had a wide upper body but slim waist. If he had hair, it was probably blonde, but most of it was shaved off. She counted the stripes on his chevrons. “Tech Sergeant,” she said to herself. Jenna was the manager and had no business coming out to assist him, but she couldn’t help herself. She made the excuse that she saw him squeezing the fruit too hard.
“Sir,” Jenna started, putting her hands on her hips and looking up at him. “You’re going to damage the apple if you keep squeezing it that way.”
“Ma’am, if I may call you that, could you not call me ‘sir’?” Jonathan said to her. “I work for a living. And thanks for the advice. I was going to cut them up as soon as I got home anyway.”
“Making an apple pie. Like mom used to make. Except better, I hope.”
What Jenna did next stopped a few of her employees in their tracks. She cackled. It was loud, and short, but it was a hearty laugh. No one had heard Jenna laugh since she started there two years ago. But this soldier made her laugh.
That laugh turned into a date, then five, then 10. She liked him in his uniform, insisting they go out just as he go off work.
“I smell like lube and hydraulic fluid.”
“You smell like a man,” was her answer. His compromise was to splash on some musk he got in France. It smelled like fresh pine trees. Her pet name for him was “Frenchie.”
He was scared to date her. Jonathan already had one failed marriage. It only lasted three years. The high school sweetheart thought she had the nerves to withstand the military lifestyle. Her 10 different boyfriends while he was gone told a different story.
But Jenna was different. She already had her own life and seemed like the kind of girl who could get by without him, but was better with him. So he kept dating her. They would go to the gym, swing at the batter’s cage, or a dog park just to chase other people’s dogs. He was the cook of the couple, always trying out new dessert recipes, while Jenna had a tough time boiling water.
They became a married couple nine months later and they tried to grab every minute they could together. Before he met Jenna, his job had him gone weeks and months at a time. He fixed maintenance equipment used for cargo planes, so when they left, he left. Jonathan was on the ground for a special school when they got married, so it gave them time to do everything together: shop for a home, fix up the house, and make love in practically every corner of it. Some nights they would go to the gym together, which always led to more sex “for the calorie burn” they would tell each other.
And then that day came: his first deployment since their marriage.
“Kandahar,” he told her over a dinner out on the town. “Not sure how long. C-5s are broken over there from hard landings and... other things. So a lot of maintenance. Which means I get to go.”
Jenna didn’t look up at him when he broke the news. She continued to cut her steak, but she chewed the pieces a little slower.
“Babe, did you hear what I said?”
“Yeah,” she replied. She cut another piece, but it wouldn’t make it to her fork. Jenna’s bottom lip started to quiver. She rubbed under her eye.
“Aww, honey,” Jonathan said as he lifted up her chin. “You’ve….you’ve got a gasket leak. Right in the eye.” He kissed her forehead as she smiled.
“I don’t know why the fuck I’m crying,” she said. “Dad was gone all the time. I didn’t cry after I turned eight. Why the hell now?”
Jonathan melted anytime his wife showed any kind of emotion. She was always loving to him and loved laughing around him, but crying wasn’t something he had ever seen her do.
“Well,” he started, trying to find the right words. “I am going to be hard to miss. Who you are you going to kill in paintball now?”
She tried to chuckle. “Asshole,” she playingly called him. “Yeah, I’ll miss you. Someone has to dust the top shelves in the house. It ain’t me.”
Jonathan squeezed her hand. “Like I said, I don’t know for how long. They like to make the E-6s do the line and the office. I’ll be stretched and probably be one of the last to leave when the rotation is up. But I promise I won’t touch a camel or look too long at the oil rags.”
“You better not,” she said, punching him on the arm.
“I promise,” he restated. “But I can’t promise I’ll keep everything in my pants when I get back.”
That steak dinner was five months ago.
The first month, all things were easy, relatively speaking. She kept herself at work, covering for any employee that called in sick. Jonathan and Jenna wrote down all the daily tasks he normally handled. She was a manager, but Jenna often took that hat off when she got home. Every chance she got, she would wake up at four in the morning to have 15 minutes of video chat with Jonathan. She tried to turn him on near the end of every chat.
“So, see any cute camels yet? Do they like your smell, Frenchie? Because I still have a camel toe for you at the house when you get back,” she told him after their first chat.
“Tell me that part about how hot and sweaty it is in the desert.” She didn’t even wait until the chat was over for that one. “Do you take your clothes all the way off and work?”
“Is that wrench as long as you are?” she said once while wearing just a bra and panties set.
Jonathan wouldn’t mind the dirty chat. If he had the time, he would talk to her underneath his covers in the cot. Sometimes he would touch himself. But he couldn’t stimulate too much because that cot was one of eight in a 50 square foot tent.
The second and third month were hard. Those chats that were almost daily turned weekly and then biweekly. Jonathan was becoming short with his responses, but he ended every chat with “love you, Jen Jens.”
Jenna got cranky over time. She snapped at coworkers and employers when they messed up. Her intimidating stare started to get longer and longer. The store’s head supervisor, Mr. Billings, wrote her up for belligerent behavior to employees. “I know you’re better than this, so I need you to just take a break,” he told her.
“From what? There’s nothing to go home to.”
“He’ll be home soon enough. Take a week off.”
She did. She tried to relax, but couldn’t. Jenna finished up all the tasks on his “to do” list. She dusted his pictures a second, third, and fourth time every day. She would go to the gym and try to sweat out the stress, sitting in the sauna, healthy bosom barely holding her towel up, and just stare into the steaming rocks. On the days she missed his body, she’d re-imagine what they used to do in every room of the house. The best head she ever gave was in the kitchen right after he did the dishes for the fourth time that weekend. He returned the act on the staircase after she helped him re-build the engine on his ‘67 Mustang. Standing sex was after the bathroom project, two weeks before he announced his deployment.
By month three, Jenna was a zombie. She grew to accept that Jonathan was gone. The squadron spouses would try to check up on her, calling every week for some kind of party or candle selling event. “Thanks, but no thanks.” She just wasn’t into that girly stuff. The closest she came to being involved with the squadron was joining the softball team, but their games were always during her shifts.
It was all about sleep, work, or Jonathan. She checked in with him every week, faking a smile, saying she was doing “okay.” But she stopped flirting with him. It was all business. “I love you Jen Jens,” he would say.
“Yep. You too, hon.”
Jenna came into work Saturday afternoon. Four months now since he was deployed. She was an hour early to make sure the clerks were used to the new credit card machines. Billings called her into the office just after dark.
“You’ve been doing great here and, uh, I’m going to cover your shift for the rest of the night.”
“It’s company policy. Some weird thingy. You’ve logged so much over time we have to start weaning you out of some hours.”
“But I’m salaried,” she argued.
“Right. I know. But, uh they still track hours, and you’ve got too many. Now go home.”
“Jenna, you can argue with anyone in this building but me. You should know that by now.”
So home she went.
Jenna had more take out and leftovers from work for dinner. She was scheduled to be off tomorrow. Moving all the crates full of bananas today made her a bit sore. So all the energy she had at the beginning of the day was done by 9pm. Tonight’s plans were the same as every other night: hot shower, Shania Twain, and scrolling for that perfect dress. Tonight she climbed into bed with one of Jonathan’s white t-shirts, peach-colored panties, and nothing else. She lay on her stomach, with the comforter covering just her feet. Her strong, tan legs exposed to the air. If she had a cat, it would be curled up next to her. But Jonathan is allergic to them.
Jenna was listening to “Still the One” and on Pinterest looking at little black dresses, eyes half closed, when she heard something downstairs. Where she lived it was windy at night, so she ignored the creaking wood. It may have been the breeze gusting through the screen door.
Shania’s song ended and Jenna was drifting into the beginnings of sleep. The phone slipped from her hand and tumbled onto the side of the bed. One of her earbuds came out and she didn’t bother to put it back in. “Fuck it,” she said.
“I should,” said a voice from just beyond the door. Jenna didn’t acknowledge the voice. It did sound like Jonathan, but she was probably dreaming about him again.
But she wasn’t. He had come home.
Jonathan stood in the doorway for a few seconds and scanned his bedroom he hadn’t seen in months. It was all a blur, because all he could focus on was Jenna. She was on her stomach, with one hand under her pillow, the other arm dangling off the side of the bed where he slept. His favorite part of her body—her firm, round butt, was elevated. That’s where Jonathan decide to start.
He was still in his uniform pants. All he had to show was his tan, toughened chest. He kept the pants on, along with the boots, when he approached his familiar bed. Jonathan put his calloused fingertips along the sides of Jenna’s hips and stroked her skin. She moved her head from the right to the left and inhaled.
“Frenchie...you’re home?” she asked.
“Yeah, Jen Jens,” he responded, his mouth fighting between crying and kissing her.
Jenna attempted to roll over onto her back and look him in the eyes, but he wouldn’t let her. His fingers held her hips in place, keeping her ass pointed in the air.
“No, baby. Please. Stay right there.”
She didn’t listen. Jenna turned over faster than he could stop her. She didn’t even look Jonathan in the eyes. Her lips found his and sucked them in. She kissed the stubble on his jaw, pulling him in by his neck. Her fingertips danced on top of his blonde spikes.
“Oh, damn I missed that,” she said.
“Me too, baby. I missed a few other things, too.” Jonathan pushed against her hips, trying to turn her back to the position he found her in.
“Don’t I know it?” she responded, turning back over onto her stomach. She inched her body closer to the end of the bed. One of his hands undid his belt buckle and buttons. Jenna used her foot to push down his pants.
He was already stiff. His cock started to harden the minute he entered the doorway. He put it against her panties because he liked the way the lace top felt on his head. It was big enough for him to slap on her ass.
“Oh, baby,” she moaned, writhing her backside.
Jonathan only used his thumbs to pull the panties down. They stopped at her knees and were the unofficial guide to keep her legs close and tight. He didn’t even need his hands to guide his member into her box. His erection and her wetness were a perfect match that night. Jonathan had an exceptionally large head on his cock and even when she was fully moist, Jenna would have to grit her teeth before he entered her. She liked that second of pain.
“Uhh! FUCK!” she shouted. “I MISSED that!”
“Well, you won’t miss it much longer, baby.” Jonathan pushed his shaft in a second at a time while he pulled her hips. Jenna pushed her hands down into the mattress and pushed her bottom back and up to make him go in faster. He was so hard and deep his head was already touching her g-spot. Jenna exhaled every ounce of breath she had. Her pussy walls tightened against him for a second.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned.
The rocking began. Jenna’s knees were planted at the very edge of their bed. Jonathan was standing behind her, knees slightly bent, pants around his ankles. Her hands digging into the bed; his hands guiding her hips to his thighs, and out before he would thrust again. She used her arms to rock closer into him, head bent down with hair falling in front of her face. She kept his white shirt on, but Jonathan rolled it up just enough to get a full view of her bottom. He liked that even though her body was tight it would ripple a little when he stabilized her hips just before he impaled her.
Jonathan was working his way to that moment. Her rocking and his grip intensified, along with their sweat. The moisture and fluids mixed together, running down his chest and in between their union. All the fluids stuck and unstuck in their rhythm. It started off as a small pop with each thrust. As they got faster, the pop sounded more like a slap.
The sound turned Jenna on. She slapped the bed with her hand when Jonathan fucked her faster. His balls dropped further and swung harder. He watched her spine slither like a python, tracing it with his eyes down to her backside. Her tanned skin rippled and popped, making him swell even more inside her. Jonathan started fucking her so fast he couldn’t watch anymore. He closed his eyes tight.
Jenna felt he was going to finish soon. She started to feel her own climax coming, losing her breath more and more as the seconds evaporated. She tried to look back at him, but she was blinded by her own sweat and hair.
Although this was their favorite way to fuck, Jenna wanted him to do one thing different.
“Babe,” she managed to say in the thrusting, “don’t pull out.”
“No, baby?” he asked.
“I want it all. I want i all in me. Come on, fucking cum in me!”
Five pumps later, he obliged. His load built up just below his cock’s head and then sprayed forward inside her snatch. The first hit spray pushed Jenna over the edge, and she climaxed. She fell forward into the bed, shoulders quivering and her fingers tapping the mattress. Jonathan’s body engulfed her soon after. He kept his cock inside her and groaned with every squirt. She could feel his balls twitch against the outside of her pussy.
They laid in the bed, panting. Jonathan pulled out and shifted his body just a little just to give Jenna some breathing space.
“Frenchie,” Jenna said just as he started to snore.
“Yeah, babe?” he mumbled.
“Don’t fall asleep. Go get some water. You’re gonna have to do that again in a few minutes.”