Warrior

Thanks to mymariamaria for editing.

Enjoy, xx

*****

I woke when the bed shifted suddenly underneath me. There was a cool breeze on my cotton covered hip. In a sleepy fog I reached out for Justin, but all I found was the cool damp of his side of the bed. His pillow was practically soaked.

Just then a loud scream ripped through the stillness of the night. My heart pounding, I turned on my bedside lamp. His whimpers lead me to him, in a corner. The light of the lamp barely reached him. It cast long shadows over the long thick fingers imbedded in his hair. They curled, blond locks white in the mixed lamp/moon light twined through them, and he pulled letting out another scream.

My heart was racing and breaking at the same time. It was a moment before I decided what to do. Sometime his flashbacks would be so bad, he'd lash out. Not intending to hurt me of course, but when your head is back in a war zone with incoming enemy fire, well your mind doesn't process that it is actually your wife's hand on your shoulder.

I slid out of bed, hesitant feet touched down on the cold wood floor. My nightdress dropped over my thighs. The white cotton almost glowed against my dark skin. As I gingerly approached him, I thought back to before he left. I remembered the man who left me that last time. I remembered how we made love that morning, how he held me, how scared I was that it would be our last time. It wasn't. He came back to me. His body did anyway. On nights like this I wondered how much of my husband was left back in that desert.

I came to a stop a few feet in front of him and dropped to my knees. I could see his shoulders shake with sobs. I wanted to make him better, to make him whole again.

"Justin," I whispered. There was no indication that he heard me. I moved closer until I could reach out and touch him. I covered large hands with mine and pried them away from his head all the while whispering his name soothingly.

With trained swiftness his hand turned in mine then grabbed my wrist. I could see that faraway look in his eyes and I knew he was not with me. Pain shot up my wrist as he gripped them tighter.

"Justin, baby, it's me Chelly. You are safe, you're home." I saw beads of sweat gathered on his forehead. His brown eyes, usually so warm were coolly distant as they darted about the dimly lit room. When his gaze landed on me, his brows furrowed. Strong shoulders sagged and his head bowed. Again, Justin's body shook with nearly silent sobs. He let go of my wrists. I ran my fingers down his forearms, over the ridges of scars on his left arm.

A few months after Justin came home from the VA, after I found him crying in the closet, he asked me what kind of man cried like that. I could tell he was disgusted with himself, with a perceived lack of masculinity.

"A strong man," I told him. "A man who made it through hell, who fought so hard to come back to me. A man with a big heart that isn't so cold as to not be hurt by the things he saw. The best sort of man who is still fighting to keep it together every day. The man I love."

I pulled him into me then and held him for the longest time. I meant every word of it. I still do. I do not know if I would be functioning at all if I had been through what he had. If I had seen my friends die screaming. If I had felt the tear of shrapnel ripping into my flesh. I admire my husband, for all he's been through, for all he is still going through, and for the strength he shows every day when he gets up to boldly faces another day.

I pulled him into me again. His arms went around me. I could feel the wet heat of his forehead on my chest and the firmness of his grip as he gathered handfuls of my nightgown into his massive paws.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked him.

His head shook "no". I kissed the top of his head and ran my fingers down the solid planes of his muscular back. I felt him stiffen. His breathing changed. I closed my eyes to the soft hesitant kisses placed on my collarbone and neck.

As soft moan escaped my throat and his kisses became more urgent. A hand moved from my back to my chest. He wasn't gentle as he gripped my swollen breast. I felt my nipple harden against his palm. He pulled my neckline down baring a dark nipple to his view. He looked up at me, his brown eyes making a desperate plea for permission. I closed my eyes and ran my fingers through his satin curls as I pulled him closer to my chest. He needed this and so did I. He needed the release and I needed to be there for him. A less selfless part of me throbbed at the thoughts of pleasure these rough sessions always gave me.

My nipple was engulfed in his hot wet mouth. His teeth bit down and pulled, shooting electric ribbons of pleasure mixed with pain straight to my core. Then his tongue flicked at the tip trapped between his teeth. My pussy walls throbbed in anticipation. I moaned louder and gripped his brawny shoulder.

As one hand palmed my other breast another went to by backside. He pulled me closer to him and brought us up to our knees. The hot rod of his erection pressed against my stomach, its heat burning though the fabric of his boxers and my nightgown.

The same nightgown that was being pulled up over my hips. A hand cupped one of my ass cheeks, griping it, clutching my body closer to his. A thick digit entered my sopping entrance as his mouth gave my other breast the same aggressive attention. I felt my pussy quiver around his twirling finger.

I was aching for him. Every nerve in my body was wired. Every sound was as loud as a crash. I heard every one of his breathes roaring against my glistening chest. I felt the warm moist air move over my sex sensitive skin, gliding over fine hairs stood on end by the Goosebumps raised as a result of a second finger overtly thrust into my now dripping cavity. My moan of pleasure reverberated in my ears. A third finger stretched me and I knew it was not going to take him long to thrust another appendage into me.

One hand still on his shoulder, I moved the other down his firm chest covered in his springy blond curls. I continued over the bumps and ridges of his abs. Was it wrong of me to lust after the body given to him by his need to exorcise his demons through exercise? He was hard all over, a mass of solid capable muscle. He had once told me that the routine of training comforted him. I continued over the band of his boxers.

I froze as a finger, slick with my juices, entered by back passage. My body squirmed at the foreign invasion. Usually there was some warning, a brush, a flick, something for me to stop before it went too far.

"Give a white guy a break" he would to laugh when we first got married. "I get a wife with a fine round black ass and I don't get to play with it?" I would laugh, let him fuck me the cunny, then give him head as a consolation prize.

Now with his finger nestled one knuckle deep inside my rosebud and I found myself even more excited than I was a moment before. My hand eagerly continued its journey down his boxes to release his long thick cock.

In a flash, as soon I released his hard and heavy rod, I found myself on my back with his large bulbous tip pressing against my cunt. Unceremoniously, he drove into me, to the hilt.

I wanted to scream but buried my face in his neck instead. He roughly lifted my legs to wrap around him and he sunk in deeper. With each pounding thrust I felt myself surge closer and closer to climax. The sound of our bodies slapping against each other's filled the room. The smell of sex tickled my nose. Firm hands gripped and pulled. My breasts ached. My clit vibrated with excitement as he pressed against it with each stroke. There was little I could do but grab his ass and press him against me as waves of my first orgasm of the night crashed over me. I sunk my teeth into his shoulder to hold back a loud scream. He grunted his approval, but did not come.

My climax had barely receded when he flipped me over onto my knees. His large hand soothed up my back. At the nape of my neck, he pressed down, lowering me to my elbows. My ass was in the air, my legs slightly open as I presented myself to him, my pussy still dripping and quivering from coming so hard.

His thumb dipped into my drenched cunt and up to my crinkled hole. He did it several times, dragging our mingled fluids up to lubricate my ass. I shivered with excitement and no small amount of trepidation. I would give this last bit of myself to him freely but his finger was the first thing ever to be inserted there. I moaned as his thumb entered my anal passage. I could hear his raged breathing over my shoulder. Instead of withdrawing, his thumb wiggled inside of me, causing me to shiver. A gush of wetness dripped down my leg. The pleasure pain I loved when he bit my nipple was nothing compared to this.

His other hand gripped my hip and he thrust into my pussy from behind. I fought hard not to come right away. Having him inside of me while his thumb gyrated and fucked my asshole was heaven. Why hadn't I let him do this before? He pounded into me with abandon. Hard and fast as he was wont to do on occasions like this. It was like he wanted to fuck himself back to reality

His chest pressed against my back as he reached around to play with my clit as he fucked me. This was too much. After a few moments, I came harder than before. I trembled as a wave more powerful than I had ever felt careened through my body. It burst forth from my body through my pussy. I felt the gush of warmth and I knew, without having done it before, I had squirted. He knew it too and it must have turned him on something fierce.

His thumb left my clenching nether hole abruptly. His hand came down beside me, bracing him as he slammed into me so hard that I had to grab the bench at the foot of the bed for support. He thrusted into me, once more, twice, four or five more times as his seed shot into my womb. A futile mission for the little swimmers, they would find it already occupied by an allied force.

After a while my heart rate slowed to something resembling normal. His breath was still heavy and hot on my shoulder. I subconsciously moaned as I felt his soft penis withdraw from me.

"Damn Chelly," His sex graveled deep voice whispered behind me. That was all he said as he rolled of off me. He was almost in a daze as he got up and went to the bathroom. I knew everything was okay because he didn't close the door and I heard the long unbroken stream as he relieved himself.

I got up and straightened my night gown. I considered taking it off. These sessions were always in two parts. Next he would come to me, hug me and kiss me, whispering how beautiful I am and how much he loves me as he gently made love to me.

When I heard the flush and then the sink, I went to him. I wrapped my arms around his slender waist and rest my head against his broad back. I am a taller for a woman at 5'8, but he still towers over me at 6'6. I love that I still feel delicate against him. Our eyes meet in the bathroom mirror.

"Thank you," he said. I smiled and was about to tell him that he didn't need to thank me, but I was interrupted. "No, I know what you are going to say, but I do need to thank you. You are always there when I need you, how I need you. You didn't have to let me do what I did but you did and you did it so openly and lovingly, so thank you."

"I'd do anything for you, I love you. That and I enjoyed every moment, of it, I always do... as for the other thing, with the thumb? Maybe my tastes are changing. You know," I pulled the test out of the top draw of the vanity and placed it by the sink. "They say that women get really horny when they are pregnant. I guess I just got hornier."

Justin looked down at the two lines on the test, then up at me. A smile, no a grin brightened his face. All thoughts of his nightmare gone for now. He spun around and picked me up. His warm lips pressed against mine in a thrilling kiss. I wrapped my legs around him as he brought me to our bed. My husband made love to me then. It was gentle and loving and something else. Celebratory I supposed.

As he drifted to sleep, I listened to his heart beat as my head rested against his chest. This was how we used to drift to sleep every night, before the nightmares would twist his perception to think I was a dead body smothering him. I wondered if they would ever stop. I wished they would but knew a wish and a quarter left you three quarters short of a dollar. I also knew that I would always be there, to hold him, to pet him, to leave the room silently, to call someone when I knew he was too far away, to let him roughly burry himself into me and take me like a barbarian so he could remember he is a man. My man. My warrior. My husband. The father of my child.