The Homecoming

Content Advisory: Sex, Oral Sex

Rain streaked across the windshield as the wipers cleared a path only to be thwarted again. It was always difficult when he went away on a mission but that was part of his military life. Letters had gone back and forth, but they would never replace the warmth of his body and his breath against her neck in bed. They wouldn’t hold her in the morning and she couldn’t hide in them at night.

Angel. His mother had named him after a heavenly creature, yet he had the lustier tendencies of the Devil himself.

Cheri watched the coming and goings of the bus station with minor interest until a tap sounded on her passenger window, startling her. She glanced over to see a uniformed official, his face blurred by the rain. She activated the switch to drop the window a few inches. Rain eagerly sought the new entry into the dry interior of her car. A familiar smile gave her heart a leap. It was him. She squealed and threw her own door open, tangled momentarily in the seat belt and ran around the back of the car. They met by the back fender and she wrapped her arms around his neck. His dark eyes danced with love and she almost didn’t notice the light scar running from the base of his nose to the top of his lip.

She shivered and stared, her gaze rising to meet his in question.

He grinned, the gesture stretching the pink line in his otherwise coffee-with-lots-of-cream complexion. “Care if I drive?”

She shook her head wordlessly and stepped back as he popped open the hatch to load one single enormous bag.  After another kiss to the lips, they divided and slid into their respective seats, the shut doors closing them off to silence interrupted only by the staccato of raindrops on the roof and the low murmur of the radio.

“Where did you get that scar?” Cheri asked, throwing a sideways glance in his direction.

Angel smirked. “It’s no big deal. Face too close to the rifle. It had a kick. I split my own lip.”

Would that be the extent of his injuries all of the time he was going to spend in the service? She doubted it greatly. Still, the scar added a new sense of character to her boyfriend.  He was smart, good with mechanical things and having grown up in a gun-friendly family, already developed a deadly aim. But being enlisted meant separation and as the years went by, going without him never got any easier.

She reached for and took his hand, large and warm. Fine black hairs on the back of it. She imagined her fingers were cold to him but his grip did not falter.

“Did you want to get dinner?” Angel looked sharper, thinner in his olive-drab green dress uniform. His short-cropped hair was scented lightly with styling gel. His deep brown eyes scanned the road ahead as if he was still on a mission and they were in possible danger.

What had he been through? Where had he been? He’d sent postcards from exotic places, always with the same left-handed-slant writing but the man in her driver’s seat had clearly changed. He appeared to be at ease, but it was his eyes that never stopped moving, never stopped searching.

Cheri stared at her lap, sure that he was sick of her gawking at him like some new species of reptile she’d just discovered. “We can if you want, but shouldn’t you get your things home?”

He opened his mouth to speak, and then snapped it shut again. A nod. Tension thickened in the small space between their shoulders and Cheri felt her eyes begin to mist over, her own rain on the windshield until everything blurred and her chest hitched with the effort not to let her emotions brim over.

When they reached the house, Angel pulled out his house key as if it were any other day and not four months since he’d last walked through the doorway.

A white, single-tier cake awaited his discovery in the kitchen, along with green, ivory and black balloons—Army colors. The cake said, “Welcome home, Angel.”

He turned to her and took her into his arms, and her fingers dug into the pleasantly rough texture of his uniform. She wanted it away from him, from them and his skin next to hers. His mouth covered hers for a deep, languid kiss, his fingers smoothing her corn silk hair between their tips.

“God, I missed you,” he said breathlessly as she gazed up at him, loving his size compared to hers, the width of his shoulders. Memory tugged a corner of her lips as she thought of his freckles across that breadth, as if he’d been sprinkled with stars as a child.

“Me too. So much.” Cheri tugged at his brass buttons with impatient hands, hungry hands that wanted nothing but Angel and to forget the length of time he’d been away. Cold, lonely nights dissolved into a gray fog as he helped her navigate his undressing.

Layers peeled away as they fussed with irritating fabric, their kisses growing more urgent, harder, needier. He sucked and bit her lip as his thumb found the stiffened peak of her nipple. She tugged his undershirt over his head and dropped it to the floor to join the rest of their clothes. Shoes followed. Her feet left the ground as Angel scooped her up in his arms, his muscles more sculpted and defined than she could ever remember. It was a new sensation as his soft face brushed against her cheek; he’d always had a goatee before. Tiny scars dotted his fingers and knuckles, telling a silent story of his remodeling for the past sixteen weeks.

He deposited her on the made-bed and covered her with himself again. Her calves slid up over his hips for her feet to cross at the ankles at the small of his back. His hands were everywhere: In her hair, on her face, up her sides and he bowed his head to flick a tongue over her nipple.

“I want you, Cheri. I’ve wanted you so bad.”

He was Angel, yet not. Strange and familiar, yet wholly new and exciting in a way she’d never sensed before. His light growl at her throat as he pushed his hard shaft against her damp pussy made her shiver.

“I want you too.”

“Tell me what you want.” He lifted to lock gazes with her, his eyes fathomless and beautiful in the light of the soft shaded lamp beside their bed, casting them in a warm glow.

“I…” Cheri struggled for words, unable to give voice to her desires.

“Tell me you want me to fuck you.” His words came out in a harsh whisper, sending delicious chills up her spine. His fingers splayed over her ass and grasped firmly, eliciting a gasp from her.

“I want you to fuck me.” The sound of her own voice was that of a stranger’s—a woman’s, hot and horny—not the demure Cheri with a private practice on the edge of their small town. She cared for house pets, not this. And Angel had always been divine between the sheets but he was letting the devil in him shine through.

He nodded and entered her with a groan. His cock filling her pushed a moan from deep within. Her nails dug into the backs of his arms, but he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, the pinpricks he had to feel appeared to be urging him on. His kiss sucked the breath out of her as he rocked her. She wanted him to do rough things to her, bite and pull, tug her hair and her nipples, but most of all, she wanted him deeper, harder. More.

“More,” she moaned, tunneling her fingers through his short black hair. “God, more.”

He gave her a wolf’s grin and pivoted his hips, his weight adding punch to his strokes. She cried out as he pulled her legs from around his back and positioned them over his shoulders, giving him more clearance and better leverage to hammer the head of his cock into the end of her, over and over.

Cheri threw her head back, her mouth open wide as she panted like an animal, her whines and moans still sounding like someone else, far away. He’d never been this aggressive, this—demanding. It was a far cry from sadism and masochism, but his control—his power—over her made her even wetter and when he paused to rise and flip her over, she crouched on all fours, head tipped back to her shoulders, daring him. Her grin widened when she felt his grip in her hair and his cock shove inside her again. He pulled on her hair if as were a set of reins, his mouth against her neck. A low moan escaped her when his teeth closed over her skin and gave a nasty little pinch. He snorted through his nose, his breaths short and quick.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded, and she pressed her fingers to her clit without hesitation. Further exploration of her fingers found his dick pumping into and out of her cunt, relentlessly. Her clit was swollen and pulsing; her own touch was electrifying and sent bolts of pleasure through her body as she neared the cliff of her impending orgasm.

“Fuck, Angel.” She gasped and jigged herself faster, her pussy walls tightening in response.

Angel grunted and gripped her hip hard, ramming into her, shoving in to pause and hold, buried so deep, so strong and Cheri screamed in pleasure, her air sawing in and out of her as fast as his cock was obliterating her cunt.

“Fuck!” She clamped fists around handfuls of bedspread, certain that if she had claws, the bed would have been shredded to ribbons by then.

He let out a loud growl as he came in her with a single jerk of his cock, jamming himself into her as far as he could go and released her hair. She tossed her head like a wild mare and slammed herself backwards into him, the boiling heat between them nearly suffocating in its euphoric phenomena.

She expected him to finish and selfishly wanted him to keep going, keep pounding her, stuff her full of his phallic godhood and when he slipped out of her and shoved her face into his glistening cock, she did not hesitate to take him into her mouth. She sucked the length of him, starved for cock not as just his girlfriend, but with the pure essence of a lover. He fell back with a groan and extended his legs, separating her from her prize long enough to bring a whine to her lips from the emptiness she couldn’t seem to eliminate.

She climbed over his legs and grasped him by the base of his cock to lick the head. He watched her with a gaze glazed over with searing lust. The look drove her on, wilder, faster. She pumped his shaft with her hand, grinning around her work as he returned to his full thickness.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” He reached out and touched her hair and brushed his knuckles against her cheek as she bobbed on his dick. His thighs tensed and flexed under her weight and she saw him bite his lip, evidently to keep from crying out as loud as she had more than a few times.

“Fuck!” He clawed the bed and pushed his head against the pillow, his face frozen in undeniable ecstasy.

She kept sucking and stroking him, her other hand busying her engorged clit. Moisture slid down the insides of her thighs in rivers. “Mm,” she moaned around his shaft and he came.

Hot spurts preceded a small flood in her mouth. She swallowed his seed, eager, willing, wanting.

It still wasn’t enough. Never could be enough. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand and straddled him, pressing herself against his thigh. His cock swayed erect in invitation. She rose and seated him against her to impale herself slowly.

“Oh God, Cheri. So good.  Easy, baby. Easy.”

He covered her breasts with his hands and squeezed before pulling down on the nipples. She rolled her hips atop him, sending wave after wave pleasure through her form. Shimmers of orgasm danced on her nerve endings deep inside her. She was close already; his teeth were bared and he seemed unable to form words. He pulled her nipples again and rolled them between his fingertips.

Cheri cried out and gave opposing resistance, increasing the pain. It felt fucking amazing. Her pussy closed around his shaft and she rocked faster, more ferociously as she ground herself against him. “Fuck, baby. Baby!” Her hair was pasted to her brow with sweat.

His fingers slipped off her nipples and went to her clit instead. He pressed the pad of his thumb against her in slow, lazy circles and she came, hard. Crashing tides of climax smashed into her, dizzying her vision and filling it with shards of light.

She couldn’t breathe anymore. Her entire body had become one quivering, multiple orgasm and when he steepled inside her to come a third time, they tensed in unison. Her air-starved muscles gave out and she collapsed in a damp heap on his heaving chest.

They lay like that for what seemed ten minutes or longer, his cock softening inside her.

His hands crept up her back, fingertips running over the ridges of her spine. “I love you.” His voice was nothing more than a ghost of a whisper.

Cheri raised her head to look at him. “I love you, too.”

As their pulse slowed, her body relaxed against his. Forget the cake. Forget the balloons or dinner. Her hunger was satisfied. Her needs were met. Angel was all she needed. Everything else from then on would just be a bonus.

She realized it was still raining outside and couldn’t bring herself to move from him. He didn’t seem to mind. He had new scars, she didn’t mind. But in that moment, it was just her, her Angel and the sounds of two hearts beating as one.

He was home.

~ Annice Sands ~

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Copyright © 2013 Annice Sands

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.