I washed my vibrator off and stuck it inside my panty drawer thinking to myself I didn't sign up for this shit. How am I a married woman with three small children and still have the need for a vibrator? Simple. My husband, JD, is in the military, the Air Force to be exact, and he is gone quite a bit. Seems like he is only here long enough to get me pregnant before he is gone again. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband. To death, actually. But I do not enjoy spending countless nights alone. When we are together we really enjoy each other. We have good company, good conversation, and the best sex ever. And while he is gone, we do send pictures, and do some webcam activities, but ain't nothing like the real thing. I am in my early thirties, and I am in my sexual peak! I should be doing it on a regular, not twice in a damn year!
On top of the fact that he is gone quite often, we are stationed here in the middle of nowhere Arizona. Of all places, Arizona. I didn't even know black people lived here. It has really been an adjustment, and this has been the toughest year of our five year marriage. JD got promoted this year, and now he flies quite often. I know this is his dream, and he promised me that after this we could go back farther south where we come from, and that he would be here to help me with these three children we have, but it is still tough. We have two boys, James, Jr. age 5, Mikey, age 3, and one girl, Kia, age 2. So three small children, no dick, living in bumfuck nowhere—something's gotta give! I just was unaware how soon that something was.
The couple that moved into the house across the street was another military, young, black couple like we were. I had been meaning to go over and introduce myself. I see that they had some children, but they were older than my kids. They seemed friendly enough, we always spoke if we passed each other. At this point, I needed to build some type of friendship to keep my sanity. I dressed in my Saturday best, a jogging suit, and picked up the basket I bought from the grocery store the other day to welcome them and introduce myself and the kids. The kids were already ready so we all went out and crossed the street.
I rang the doorbell, holding the basket and Kia at the same time, fussing at James and Mikey to get out of the couple's plants. A child opened the door; he looked to be about 10. I introduced myself and he invited us in and called his mother from the kitchen.
"Hi. My name is Andrea. I live across the street; these are my babies, James, Mikey and Kia. I wanted to introduce myself and welcome you into the neighborhood."
The woman looked at me and smiled. She was a nice looking woman. She had long hair, brown skinned, nice shape, was a little on the thick side but still was shapely, a beautiful smile, and big brown eyes with long lashes. Two dimples adorned her round face, and her demeanor was so pleasant it seemed like I already knew here.
"Hey! I'm Connie. That little rascal that opened the door is my son Tim, and my other son TJ is outside in the back. Let me see these beautiful babies you have."
Before I knew it, we were talking like old friends. She and her husband had been married for eight years, together fifteen. Her husband, Teddy, also flew often leaving her alone. Her oldest son, TJ, was 13 and the youngest Tim, was eleven. She said tried to make a home everywhere she went because it was hard being away from all your family and friends. They had only been in Arizona four months, and he currently was on a six-month deployment. That was shorter than my husband's deployment; he was on a nine-month one. My boys had instantly taking a liking to Tim, while my baby entertained Connie in between our bits of conversation. Neither of us was currently working, and so we made plans for Sunday dinner the next day.
Once I got back home, I realized I enjoyed the outing and the adult conversation. The only thing about Connie that was different was she was very touchy-feely. She touched my hand when she laughed, and she stroked my face and complimented me on my looks, she grabbed my arm when we walked into another room, and she fingered my hair more than once. I wasn't used to that type of behavior, but some people are like that so I let it slide. I looked forward to Sunday dinner.
