Twelve hour days have been what keeps my mind off my love. He passed away a year ago from complications from his last tour in Iraq. We always had a spiritual, physical and deeply rooted connection that went beyond normal love.
Every night I'm haunted by the same dream. It stars off with the last morning we made love so viscerally that it satisfied our souls and I cry my goodbyes as he boards the plan that leaves me here... waiting desperately, hopefully and eagerly for his safe return. I go to work and rush home to Skype my love and wish him courage and my unyielding strength to come home. He says I love you, I smile and shed a tear as it fills me heart, kiss the camera and whisper I...
"I love you too"bid never uttered aloud because his base explodes and he takes several pieces of scrap metal to his body. Long story short his body came home and I bury my love and my heart 6ft too fucking deep.
Wherever Calvin and I were so was his platoon buddy, Rock. He always treated me like his girlfriend even though I never understood why my love would allow it. Sometimes I swear Rock flat our flirted right in front of Calvin. Rock always called me "cupcake" because I was the nicest person he knew and I baked gourmet cupcakes for a living. The day we buried Calvin, Rock just held me close and dried my tears until I passed out from exhaustion. Every week he'd stop by or send flowers, cut the yard, fix up things and just be the substitute for my love, or so I thought.
On the one year anniversary of Calvin's death I was a mess. I didn't leave my home or answer the phone. Rock knocked on the door and I refused to answer. He knew I was home because my sobs could be heard from any room of the house. He banged the door down for what seemed like forever until I decided to make him go away.
I opened the door screaming: "Leave me the fuck alone, Rock! I don't need visitors today and I damn sure don't want to see the only man from his platoon left standing at my door when my Calvin is...... *sigh* Get off my fucking lawn." I hurt him, deep and I knew I did the second I looked into his eyes. What I didn't see is the reflection of myself in his eyes and the hurt he's been carrying all along.
"Cupcake don't do this to me," he pleaded, "I know it's been rough but you have to do better than the shit you're doing now. You're a damn ghost just existing like life hasn't happened or is happening around you." I shifted in my stance and instantly became enraged. This selfish bastard has the nerve to tell me about life? He hasn't lost the love of his life. He hasn't soaked pillows for hours with tears. He hasn't signed death papers and woke up screaming every night in the bed where passionate love was made.
"Where do you get the nerve Rock? You piece of shit! How dare you tell me about life? How dare you tell me it's happening around me when everything in my world is upside down and burning in my own personal hell?" He looked at me, right through me and wiped my tears. His face softened and his anger subsided. We connected there through a pain only broken love can give. It was then I noticed, all this time, he hung around for me. He'd been my only comfort and connection to Calvin that was anything besides grief. "Cupcake, I loved you from the day I laid eyes on you. I nor Calvin have ever wanted to hurt you or make you cry." He kissed me so soft and sweet. "Cupcake you were my and Calvin's world. He always said to make sure you knew he loved you and we promised each other if anything happened to us, we'd take care of you, like you've always take care of us. Why can't you see that?"
Finally accepting what he was saying, he leaned in and kissed me again. The lips were that of Rock but everything else was my Calvin. The way he held my neck and rubbed my lower back, the tender, hungry kisses he placed from my lips to my neck, Right down to the flick of his tongue on my spot. How would Rock know that intimate detail of me?
His chest pounded as he kissed me and I'm sure my heart echoed the beat. His hands moved just like Calvin to the very personal spots only Calvin knew to make me squirm. I moaned my need to feel connected to him. My breathing shallowed the more my heart drew deeper into Rock, connecting to Calvin and reviving an empty vessel longing for him and the need to just feel. He held me tighter as his penis bulged out of his jeans urging to be freed. My hand shook with urgency to free the zipper constraining him. Greedy to feel something, anything resembling my love, I placed kisses all over his face neck, chest, anything I could touch as he did the same to me. Both of us massaging and increasing sensitivity of our sex for more.
Finally stripped of clothing, Rock gazed into my eyes and called me "cupcake" over and over again in between kisses and used his fingers to swirl around my throbbing clit. Unable to speak, moaning and cooing behind closed eyes needing more was all I could manage to do standing in his arms. He kissed a path from my lips to the most sensitive spot on my neck, down to my breasts.
Squeezing, sucking and flicking his tongue around each one until the stood at attention, to his command. He drew circles with his tongue and tiny kisses down my belly to my sweet cake batter. He licked the bottom of the bowl to the very top in a slow titillating pace, then again for the new batter seeping from the bowl. He kissed, French kissed and smooched my bowl and sucked on my clit until my moans traveled down to my toes.
He stood up long enough to pick me up and move to the bedroom. He continued licking and drinking my better batter and tonguing the mix until my body fell limp. Rock looked deep into my eyes as he slid ever so slowly, deeper, deeper still, until he reached the bottom of the bowl; filling every space my body wanted him to fill. He mixed and flipped and whisked the batter up until we both shook into oblivion.
He made love to me just like Calvin, made my toes curl, my eyes roll back and my body convulse the only way my love could. I fell asleep in Rock's arms knowing my love for Calvin could never die because the love he had for me lived in Rock. My dreams weren't the same nightmares, but new beginnings of a future to come, a life to lead and not to simply exist. It sure feels good to be stuck like a rock in a hard place, my Rock.
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