What Happens Overseas Stays Overseas
What Happens Overseas Stays Overseas
Hell, the only thing he’s done is make me want to take another shower. I mean really, how can he not know how I like it after almost four years of marriage? I could understand if I haven’t told him a thousand times, but I have. But every time it’s the same thing. Three and out! That means; three minutes and he’s finished. I’m so frustrated with his selfish ass.
I know I’m over exaggerating, but damn. Can a sister catch a break? I do everything for him, I cook his food, I wash his dirty ass clothes, I clean up the entire house even though his lazy ass makes the biggest mess around here and all I ask is for him to think about me.
He’s got me to the point that I’d rather not have sex at all. That’s all it is. Sex, not lovemaking, just, I got to get mine. S-E-X.
In the beginning, it wasn’t like this—well, not always. My husband used to hold my hand, open the door for me, and repeatedly told me he loved me. He used to take his time with me, touch every inch of my body, and make sure I knew how much he loved me.
With each kiss, stroke, touch, and moan, I knew.
But now it’s, “Baby, can I have a quickie?”
That’s what he calls it, a quickie. His ass would look stupid if I get myself a quickie from that fine-ass Chief on the boat that’s always flirting with me. Shit, I’m still a good catch. I’m only twenty-eight, I have a great Navy career and just to let you know, before we got together I could have chosen any man I wanted, but I chose him, and look where that got me. Wanting.
Financially, my husband is the perfect man. He’s a Navy contractor that takes care of home. Remember I said financially.
I can’t believe how selfish a man can be. I wish I would have known he would turn out like this because before we got married he used to put it on me all night long. But as soon as he put that ring on my finger it slowly went from all night, down to a minute or so every three nights. Like I said before, I love my husband, but I’m happy as hell my six-month deployment starts tomorrow.
Why, why, why couldn’t he just let me get mine?
It’s a good thing I have Mr. Wiggles—without him, I don’t know what I would do. My three-inch stimulator has helped me reach that higher level every time Mr. three and out would finish his business. I would just walk into our bathroom and give myself the orgasm my body so desperately needed to release. At least for the next six months, I don’t have to hear, “Baby, can I have a quickie?” Thank you, Lord.
You know what? I have half a mind to check in tonight. No, I can’t be like that. I’m going to try to give him another chance.
So I look at my husband and say, “Baby, it’s only eight o‘clock, what else do you have planned for us tonight?”
He smacks his teeth and says, “Nothing really. Law and Order are about to come on. Do you want to watch it with me?”
Law and Order? Now see this is the shit I’m talking about. I’m about to go on a six-month deployment and all this selfish asshole wants to do is watch TV. He has pissed me off for the last time. I lean over to my nightstand and get a wipe to clean myself off. I was about to take a shower but there is no way I’m getting out this bed until I tell this bastard off.
I lose it. “You know what, you’re a sorry-ass excuse for a husband. The night before I leave, and all you want to do is watch TV. You know what? Take me to the ship! You can watch fucking Law and Order by your damn self.”
Ed (that’s my husband’s name, by the way) looks at me like I’ve got something up my ass. “What’s wrong with you now?”
Sitting up in the bed, he asks, “Me? We just finished making love and—”
I know this motherfucker did not just say that.
I force my back against our headboard making a sound loud enough to cut him off.
I yell, “Is that what you call that? Making love? That was a fucking quickie!”
He snaps back, “Who do you think you’re talking to like that? Stop all that damn yelling and cursing. This is not the Navy, and I’m not one of your sailors.” He shakes his head and mumbles to himself, “I hope you don’t come back with that mouth of yours.”
Ed hates it when I curse, but he knew I cursed when we first met.
Dressed in my favorite white pair of skin-tight jeans and a body tight t-shirt that reads, I have a boyfriend, in red letters with a black background, and to top it off with my 4-inch black stilettos, the ones with silver heels that help my beautiful round ass stand out more. I know, based on the way I was dressed you may have thought I was actually there to find a man but I really needed a drink.
Work was crazy. I just got promoted to First Class Petty Officer and they started giving me more work than I could handle. Ed, on the other hand, needed more then a drink and when he came up to me, asked if he could buy me one. I knew then that he didn’t care if I wanted a drink or not.
One way I knew was because my drink was still full and also because of the way he stared at me as we talked.
He allowed me to vent about my job, so I did. And with every sentence, I was using every curse word I knew. Every time I cursed, he flinched. I could tell it was bothering him so I apologized for my language and told him that the Navy did that to me. The fact of the matter is I only curse when I’m upset and that’s rarely.
Ed gave me the freedom to talk all night. It felt good to vent but it felt even better to vent to a man who seems so eager to listen. I was so impressed with his kindness I gave him my number.
The next night we hooked up and went to play pool. That night was the first time I gave him some. I know you may be thinking it was fast but when you know, you know.
The pool hall we went to was huge; it was full of pool tables perfectly aligned throughout the building but not a lot of people there. Mainly couple and their mind weren’t on the pool game. The lights were dim and overhead speakers were playing a mix of soft rock and smooth R&B. Ed was looking good that night, he had on a blue and white striped button-down shirt, some dark Levi jeans, and a very nice pair of Cole-Hann shoes.
I tried not to overdo my wardrobe but I had on a pair of black skinny jeans, a purple silk blouse, and some gorgeous purple three-inch stilettos.
Ed’s over six feet and I’m five-six, so it feels good to wear heels around a man and him not be intimidated. Most of the times I went on dates I’ve had to wear flats just so my height-challenged partner could be in a nice comfort zone.
Ed got our pool balls for the table and led the way.
He asked, “Do you play pool a lot?”
“It’s been a while but I think I can still shoot.”
“So how about we play a special game then?”
I started walking slowly behind him and asked, “What game is that?”
“What’s so special about eight-ball?”
“Well, the winner of the game gets a kiss.”
I smiled, “Is that right? And if you lose what, what happens then?”
“You get a kiss too.”
My smile was bigger now and I told him, “Oh you’re fresh, huh? What makes you think I want to kiss you anyway?”
Ed set the balls on our table and walked closer to me. He placed his large hand on my shoulder and began to lightly massage it. At first, he doesn’t say anything, he used his large rough hand to talk for him. I almost forgot what it felt like for a man to touch me. The way he massaged my shoulder, it was slow, firm, and so damn sexual.
He was lighting a fire in a fireplace that’s been without wood for some time now.
At that moment I took a good look at that confident man touching me. Ok, he was cute, lips sexy, not quite LL sexy, but sexy. A little lighter than me, and has great facial features. From his true-to-life African nose, chiseled jawbone, and jet black wavy hair. From looks alone, he was a keeper. I bet we would even make great-looking babies together.
He asked me, “So you don’t want to kiss me?”
“I didn’t say that, but I just don’t think the game is fair, that’s all.”
“Well, we don’t have to play it that way if you don’t like to.”
I thought for a second and decided to play along for a little bit. What would it hurt anyway?
“Ok, I’ll play but when I say enough, that’s enough, ok?”
He smiled showing a slight gap in his front top teeth and boastfully said, “Sounds good to me. So do you want to break or shall I?”
“You got it.”
After about three shots of some very nice liquor, I was feeling so good I didn’t wait for the game to be over to kiss him. I think that was his plan. Now we all know what happens when you mix liquor and sexual tension; you let a person in when you told yourself you were going to make them wait.
That night he made love to me like it was his first time. I felt his hands shaking when he touched me, like he was touching somebody so precious to him. This huge, strong man who could’ve very easily manhandled me in the roughest way is touching my soft skin like a cat rubbing against his master.
I loved the way his lips quivered when we kissed. He kissed me like I would fall apart once our lips touched.
I told him, “Baby, it’s ok. I won’t break.”
“You’re just so beautiful. Look I don’t want to disrespect you because I really do like you. So could we please go to my place or maybe yours? Because I don‘t want to remember the first night I had sex with you to be in the back seat of the car.”
Yes, we were in the back seat of his Audi, and yes we were in the parking lot at the pool hall.
Liquor and tension.
I told him, “Ed, we can be at your place, my place, even in a hotel room for all I care. I just want to remember being with you, damn the scenery.”
We’re softly blowing liquor in each other faces. My back was against the side door and my hands locked around his slightly sweating neck. Our eyes are close and he continued to glorify me.
“You know your eyes are so seductive? The way you look at me makes me feel like I’m under your spell. They’re so narrow, so small.”
He lifted his head and gave my eye a soft kiss.
Made use of his hands by helping me remove our clothes. Now naked, I open my legs for him to get comfortable in between me. Ed slowly trailed his fingers up the side of my body and back down. He sailed his fingers in-between my tights causing me to jump a little from his touch.
Panting, he asked, “You ok?”
I guided his hand back to my special place to let him know I was.
He stuck two fingers into me and grazed over my walls with his fingertips. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the pleasant shocks running through my body. He took his fingers out, licked them, and moved to the other end of the car.
him, “Oh, it’s my turn now.”