Return to Sender (3 page)

Closer to the edge he pushed her until she crashed
over it, her sex throbbing and pulsing as wave upon wave of her
climax took her. He kept his hand and mouth busy, not letting up
until she relaxed again beside him.

While his fingers still stroked her sex he said, “I
hope that is the first of many times I will make you come.”

“So do I,” she said, feeling as though it was the
most ridiculous thing to say.

“Now I want to taste you.” He slid down along her
body, parting her thighs wider and positioned himself between
them.

“Oh, my,” she breathed as he went straight for her
already sensitive clit, his tongue gliding over it, leaving her a
throbbing mass over nerves.

Alternating between the soft flat of his tongue, and
then a jabbing action he that sent her crazy, he brought her
towards another climax. She tried to strain her neck forward to
catch a glimpse of the wonderful things he was doing to her but
couldn’t, in the end she had to settle for closing her eyes and
thanking her lucky stars she had written that first letter so long
ago.

Who would have guessed that she would have ended up
here, flat on her back with a gorgeous soldier between her legs,
giving her unimaginable pleasure with his tongue, and OH! His
fingers. He slipped two fingers inside her and found her g spot,
her hips bucked and she pushed herself forward onto him harder. He
took the challenge and began to suck on her clit, his tongue
darting out in a continuous rhythm until she came, her juices
dripping out of her, onto his chin.

Christie was thankful he was a fit soldier, because
he certainly had stamina. Now he slid back up the bed towards her
head, kissing every possible inch of her as he moved. She slowly
came back to earth and stroked his body, first his shoulders and
then his chest as he moved. When his head was level with hers he
kissed her on the neck, working his way up to nibble her ear lobes,
sending fresh chills through her body.

He turned slightly, and his cock was in reach of her
hands, summoning all her courage she wrapped her hand around him,
and felt his gasp of delight on her ear. Christie, encouraged by
this, gripped him firmly and began to slide her hand up and down
his solid shaft. He murmured his appreciation into her ear, making
her feel like a goddess bestowing the greatest gifts on this
man.

He moved against her, his cock sliding in and out of
her hands. “That feels wonderful, but do you know where I really
want to be right now?”

“No,” she said, although she could guess.

“In here,” he said, slipping a finger in her sopping
wet sex. “Is that what you want, Christie?”

“Yes.”

He kissed her fully on the lips and then lifted
himself up onto his elbows, slowly easing himself between her
thighs.

Then he slowly guided himself towards her entrance,
the head of his cock resting against her a moment. Her sex ached to
feel him inside, but he hesitated, slowly circling her opening with
the head of his cock, teasing her until she had to beg him to take
her.

“Please, Marcus, I can’t bear it,” she said, still he
teased, pushing a little harder so she thought he was going to
penetrate her, then he pulled back. She felt tears of frustration
building. “Please Marcus,” she begged again. This time she grasped
his hand and urged him forward into her.

He obliged, pushing hard and taking her in one full
thrust, he growled his appreciation of her tight sex. “Oh, yes.
Mmm, you feel so good,” he said kissing her neck. “I’m sorry, I
teased you, but I wanted you to get some kind of an idea how it’s
felt for me, waiting for this moment. When that damn letter was
returned to me, I thought I would explode.”

“You're here now,” Christie managed to say before he
slid back out of her, only to plunge back in hard and fast.

His lovemaking was like the rest of him, strong and
confident. Christie was swept away with each penetrating thrust. He
took her hard, her sex gripping him tightly, thus heightening the
friction between them. She held him tight, her arms wrapped around
him, the feel of the muscles along his back rippling with each
lunging stroke.

If she thought he had made her come hard already,
that was nothing compared to the way he controlled her building
orgasm. He tipped his body so that he rubbed her clit with each
stroke; his mouth once again connected with her nipples, the
sensations all combining to make her lose control.

Her nails dug into his back, she clawed at him like
an animal, her voice becoming high pitched, she had never cried out
during sex before, her orgasm always gentle, if at all. Marcus
however seemed to take pride in making her come hard, and when he
knew she was close he slid his hand between them and found the
little bundle of nerves, and stroked her there with his thumb.

Her world really exploded, she swore she could see
stars and everything, and then she heard a voice crying out, and
realised it was hers. She didn't care what the neighbours might
think, let them know she was being ridden roughly by her very own
soldier. They might not look at her as the boring fat girl any
more.

She felt him coming too, his warm seed spurting deep
inside her, she was glad she was on the pill, because the feel of
him filling her was wonderful. Perhaps one day they would do this
and make babies together, for now she wanted to practice as often
as possible.

As his orgasm continued he thrust into her in short
sharp burst, her sex still throbbed and contracted around him,
their bodies working together towards maximum pleasure. Then with
one final jerk he had finished, he slowed his movement, no longer
swept along by his need to claim her.

“Are you OK, honey?” he asked, searching her face. “I
didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No. It was perfect.”

He kissed her cheek and laughed. “Well, thank you. I
got a bit carried away.”

“Well, any time you want to get carried away again, I
will not be the one complaining.”

“Wow, you are insatiable.” He watched as she blushed.
“Oh. I am not complaining. Give me a few minutes and I will be good
to go again. I want you to be so sore in the morning you will be
thinking of me every minute of the day.”

She kissed him lightly on the cheek, her body feeling
a rush of arousal at the thought of this man making her sore.
Never, had any man wanted her that much. “I think I will be
thinking of you every minute for a long time to come.”

He slid out of her and moved to lie next to her, his
arm still draped over her possessively. She kissed him again. “I
have to go to the bathroom,” she said, sliding out from under him
and getting up. Normally she would have covered her body with a
sheet or a robe, but he made her feel so good about herself she
didn’t bother.

Going into the bathroom Christie looked at herself in
the mirror, her face was flushed, in a good way, her hair looked
tousled, and there was unmistakable glint of happiness in her eyes.
Even if she did say so herself, she looked at least a little bit
attractive, Marcus certainly was good for her. She smiled to
herself, resisting the need to sing or whistle about her
happiness.

When she went back out Marcus was lying where she had
left him, she could see he was struggling to keep his eyes
open.

“Hey, you look tired out, why don’t you sleep, it is
late.” She glanced at the clock it was 12.35am.

“Do you mind? It was a long journey back.” He said
stifling a yawn.

“You came straight here?” she asked, stunned.

“I went and showered and changed first, then yeah. I
couldn’t get you out of my head, I thought I had lost you forever.”
His voice sounded drowsy.

“There's no chance of that now, you sleep for as long
as you need.” She bent and kissed his head, his eyes already
closing.

Christie pulled on a robe and sat down next to him on
the bed, and stared. She didn’t want to go to sleep in case she
woke up and the whole night had been a dream. So instead she sat
and watched the rise and fall of his chest, listening to the
soothing sound of his breathing.

She did not let herself dwell on how things would
proceed after tonight. They had never talked about any life they
might share, their letters had been more about feelings, and how
their childhoods had made them into the people they were today.

They had very different upbringings, Marcus’s father
had been in the armed forces too, and he had been brought up to
carry on what was a family tradition. He had been taught to have a
stiff upper lip, and never let anyone see signs of weakness. He had
admitted over the course of their correspondence that it had made
him shy away from real relationships. He struggled to read other
peoples emotions, and it left him unable to commit.

Christie on the other hand had been loved and
cherished all her life. Her family had accepted her for who she
was, even when she bloomed, rather than blossomed. When she was
thirteen she had lost her parents in a car accident. As a curvy
teenager she had moved to stay with distant relatives that
consisted of two cheerleaders with doting parents, she had not fit
in. They had criticised her body shape, and made her feel
worthless.

She remembered the five years she had lived with them
with sorrow. They had not meant to be cruel, but it had left
Christie feeling as though no one could accept her for who she was.
Things had got easier when her career took off, but friends like
Sarah Jane always reminded her of her social inadequacies.

So they were both damaged and socially inept. By
sharing their thoughts and feelings on paper they had learned to
trust each other, which was why it had hurt so bad when he had
stopped writing to her when he was about to come home.

The letter. What had he done with it?

***

Going out of the bedroom she found it on the kitchen
counter, next to where they had shared their first kiss. She could
see the words return to sender written over her address, the writer
of those words still a mystery. She wanted nothing more than to
tear it open and see what he had written, but she didn’t know if
she should ask him first.

Picking it up she turned it over in her hands,
feeling the familiar paper and trying to guess what he had written.
He wasn’t romantic in his writing, usually more practical in his
feelings. Yet this letter contained the reasons he had wanted to
see her in the flesh. The reasons he had come along way to find
her, before he had even had a chance to catch up on his rest. Her
fingers itched to open it, but before she had a chance to decide
what to do there was a knock at the door.

Christie looked at the time, it was now a quarter to
one in the morning, there were not many people who would come and
see her at this time. She went over and put the chain on the door,
deciding to open it in case there was an emergency, but still
staying safe.

Opening the door as much as the chain would allow she
peered out. In the hallway stood Sarah Jane, swaying slightly.

“What do you want?” Christie hissed.

“I’ve come to apologise.” Sarah Jane answered, her
speech slightly slurred.

“Can’t it wait for the morning?” Christie didn’t want
Sarah Jane’s presence to break the perfect spell.

Sarah Jane leaned against the wall. “No,” she said a
little too loudly.

Christie wanted to get rid of her, so she decided to
open the door and let her say what she had to say before she sent
her home. She was willing to graciously accept whatever she had to
say, because now it didn’t matter, she had a man who liked her for
herself.

“Come in, quickly.” Christie undid the chain and
Sarah Jane walked carefully into her apartment. “Right, let’s get
this over with.”

“Get what over with?” Sarah Jane asked.

“Your apology.” Christie tried to keep her voice
calm.

“Oh, yeah. First I need the bathroom.” Sarah Jane
started to wander off.

Christie stood by, too stunned to speak. She realised
the real reason for this visit was that her so called friend needed
the bathroom, the apology was just an excuse to get through the
door. That did it, she didn’t want to hear a word from Sarah Jane,
she wanted her to go, and never see her again.

Standing as calmly as she could she waited for Sarah
Jane to reappear. By the time she had weaved her way back out,
Christie already had the door open for her to leave.

“Not going to offer me a coffee?” Sarah Jane
asked.

“No, I think you need to get yourself home.” Christie
still stood by the open door.

Sarah Jane walked forward again, and then saw the
letter in Christie’s hand. “Not still reading those stupid letters
are you? You know nothing will come of it?”

Christie felt her anger bubbling up, she wanted
nothing better than to tell Sarah Jane how wrong she was, but she
didn’t want to answer all the questions that would follow.

“Goodnight, Sarah Jane.” Christie said firmly.

Sarah Jane walked closer, and then made a grab for
the letter tearing it out of Christie’s hand. “What does he say to
you anyway?” she asked pulling away from a very surprised
Christie.

“Give it back,” shouted Christie.

Sarah Jane stepped away, turning the envelope over to
take the letter out. She stopped, standing dead still; her eyes
glanced over the address, with the words return to sender written
over it. Looking puzzled she turned back to Christie. “I don’t
understand. How did this get here?”

“Give it back to me!” Christie quickly snatched it
back from Sarah Jane, who let it go, still looking questioningly at
Christie. All at once it became obvious to Christie what had
happened to the letter. “You did it! You sent the letter back.”

Sarah Jane pulled herself up straight. “Yes, yes I
did. I thought we were friends, so I tried to spare you the pain
and embarrassment of being turned down by your soldier.”