“I.Am.So.Sorry.” Each word was punctuated, as if he could make them more clear and meaningful by doing so, but he words were whispered-they were both aware of the sleeping people around them. “I was dreaming. I was…I thought you…”
“It’s okay.” Holly’s hand moved over his shoulder as he sat back in the seat. His eyes met hers, and she saw the pain there, the horror.
“Please.” He took her hand, pushed her gently away, his expression beyond pain. “I can’t. You touching me. I just can’t.”
“Ahhh, weary warrior,” she murmured, ignoring his plea. Both hands now, stroking down the front of his fatigues, over his chest and belly, long, slow movements.
She watched his face slowly relax, his eyes soften as he looked at her.
“What are you-?” His words stopped when she pressed her fingers over them, and then followed her fingers with her mouth, kissing him gently, the soft press of her lips on his a tender panacea. She climbed between his legs, nuzzling his neck, his shoulder, smelling the essence of the masculine, breathing it in as she pressed her whole body to him, rubbing in that same, steady, downward motion.
“Oh… god…” His eyes closed, the tension in his body, held coiled and tight somewhere in his belly, she knew, began to unwind. She knelt before him on the floor of the bus, squeezed in, not a lot of room to work, but she didn’t need much.
“It’s okay,” Holly whispered, her cheek resting against his thigh as she worked his zipper down, reaching her hand through the gap to find what she was looking for. “It’s going to be okay.”
She felt his hand in her hair, gentle now, the power in it when he had her pinned to the seat restrained as she rubbed her cheek against his crotch. He was soft, pliable in her hand, but she had never met a man alive who could resist her touch, and this one was no exception. It took him time, but she had time. The world was asleep, and they were just two travelers journeying together in the darkness, sharing a moment of feeling.
When he was hard enough in her hand, she used her mouth, making him gasp and clench his hand into a fist in her honey-colored hair. She made a soft noise of approval in her throat, her mouth to full of his cock to do much more, and his hips shifted, giving her more of him.
Her hands moved over his chest, down his belly, again and again as she sucked him, the same steady downward motion. She worked as if she could draw it out of him-the pain, the horror, the rage-bring it down and out and through his body with this one solitary act of love, on her knees before him in gratitude for everything he had sacrificed.
Holly felt tears stinging her eyes as she worshipped the length of his cock, tower of heat and strength filling her mouth, filling her completely. The soldier’s eyes met hers in the darkness, the moonlight through the window giving them just enough to see each other’s shadows by, and he cupped her cheeks in his big hands, his cock slowly thrusting into her wet, waiting mouth.
It was a moment she would never forget, when the world slipped back into place and gave them both just what they needed during that brief flash of connection. His whole body quivered at the moment of climax, and her soft hands pressed his bare belly beneath his shirt, feeling what had been coiled there spring, release, let go. He flooded her mouth then, and she thought it would never stop, endless waves of heat, and she swallowed it all, as if doing so might erase any sign of his agony.
They didn’t speak. The soldier zipped up as Holly worked her way back to the seat, and this time when she pressed herself against his side, she was awake, conscious of the act, and he welcomed her warmth, his breathing easy now. She watched him sleep for a while, a peaceful thing, and it pleased her beyond words as she drifted toward a dreamless darkness.
It was morning when they woke, stiff and sore, stretching the night off as the bus pulled into another stop. It was his-her destination was further down the road.
“What’s your name, soldier?” she asked as he pulled his camouflage duffel from under the seat and shouldered it.
He gave her a small smile, and she thought he spoke the next words with a pride he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. “David Michael Jordan, Lance Corporal, United States Marine Corp.”
She nodded, her eyes on his, and felt those tears threatening again.
He was blocking the aisle for other passengers, and while they both noticed, neither cared. He touched her cheek, rubbing gently with one finger. “What’s your name, angel?”
“Holly.”
Smiling-he had a bright, beautiful smile-he said, “I think you must be an angel Holly.”
“No.” She smiled back, and said the next without any hint of shame. “I’m a prostitute.”
“Jesus.” His jaw dropped. “Really?”
She nodded as he lifted her chin, looked into her eyes, his face puzzled. “Do I…I mean…do I owe you—”
“I owe you.” She turned her face toward his hand, cradled it and kissed his palm.
“We all do. It was my gift.”
“Yes.” He leaned down and kissed her, briefly, the passengers behind him shuffling. “You are.”
She watched him get off the bus, feeling more full and whole than she had in a long time. He stood there until they pulled out a few minutes later, duffel at his feet. He gave her a short salute when she waved. His eyes met hers for a brief, tender moment before the bus accelerated, moving her forward on her journey, one of constant, unexpected pleasure and human connection.
NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTION
“Lose weight.”
Beth snorted and pinched the side of Tina’s trim thigh. “If you lose weight, you’ll disappear, Tinkerbelle.” Tina wiggled away from Beth’s wandering fingers with a grin.
“Think of something else.”
“Stop smoking.”
Beth laughed out loud at that. Tina hadn’t ever smoked in her life. “Listen, princess, if you’re not going to take this seriously, I’m going to have to tickle you again.”
Tina squealed, grabbing for the covers and pulling them over her tousled blonde head. “No more tickling!”
“Then tell me honestly…” Beth’s hand sneaked under the covers, seeking heat.
“What’s your New Year’s Resolution gonna be?”
Tina’s eyes were bright as she peeked over the top of the comforter. “Okay, okay… you really want to know?”
Beth’s hand had found the sweet spot she was searching for. The way Tina bit her lip when Beth slipped her fingers up and down in the wetness was both hot and endearing, and she felt her own body respond.
“I wouldn’t have asked, if I didn’t want to know, sweetness…” Beth flipped the comforter off in an instant, making Tina squeal again at the shock and pedal back toward the headboard. Beth’s hands gripped the blonde woman’s thighs and pulled her downward with no effort at all. Tina was tiny, a lightweight, and she could toss her around like a little ragdoll when she wanted to. It was one of the many things Beth loved.
“Ohhhh god,” Tina wiggled and spread as Beth’s probing fingers and tongue found their way past her soft, smooth lips and into the pink folds inside. “I can’t think when you’re doing that, baby.”
Beth fastened her mouth over the tender, swollen bud of Tina’s clit. Her flesh was incredibly responsive, and Beth knew that in just a few moments time, she could bring the little blonde to a hard, quick orgasm. Tina’s hips were already beginning to move against her tongue. Instead, Beth pulled back and grinned. “Well, in that case, I’ll just stop until—”
“Nooooo!” Tina wailed, grabbing Beth’s dark head and pressing her between her thighs. “Please, please…”