Forged In Fire

I met my wife, Vanessa, during our second year attending the Air Force Academy. I was the wannabe pilot and academic. She was a flourishing student-athlete, lettering in track and soccer.

We became friends, attending a few different classes together. I made her laugh a lot, and she liked how I could laugh at myself. She told me I was refreshing compared to most guys she knew. We studied together often. I was her biggest and loudest fan at all of her sporting events.

Venessa is five-ten with long muscular legs, a firm ass, and a flat stomach. I teased her about having more of a six-pack than me. She ran the 200 and 400-meter sprints. I was amazed just watching her run; her long, powerful strides took up so much track with so little effort.

During soccer season, the sweet girl I met in class was physical, dominating the other women on the field of play. Vanessa seemed like a red-haired Valkyrie from Viking lore hip checking opponents to steal the ball. Watching her intensity on the field was thrilling, and a little intimidating.

She was an absolute chameleon. She easily morphed from a shield-maiden warrior princess into a goddess when she wanted to. When she wasn't competing, she was naturally sensual, watching her just walk was intoxicating.

Graduation approached, and we had to make a decision. Move on with our careers separately or get married to stay together after graduating. I asked Vanessa to marry me. In hindsight, I shouldn't have ignored the short moment of doubt in her eyes. We were only twenty-two years old and about to go out into the real Air Force. I don't think either of us, was ready to be married while starting our new careers.

Venessa was a communications officer. She went on to our first duty station ahead of me. I went on to pilot training. Being apart was difficult so early in our marriage.

Disaster struck after a couple of months of training I was eliminated from training for an inner ear issue. I owed the Air Force for my free education, so I became a Civil Engineer.

I joined Vanessa at our first duty location. The area had both a large Air Force and Army presence. Venessa and I were at polar opposites of the "happy scale."

For the first few months, I was pretty depressed about washing out of pilot training. Vanessa was super excited about her job and being an officer.

I finally shook of the self-pity. In part because it was causing issues between Venessa and me. I convinced Venessa I would be happier if we bought a home together. We found a great place on a cul-de-sac in a neighborhood with a lot of current and prior military people.

Rick was a twice-divorced major in the Army and ten years our senior. His nineteen-year-old pretty blonde daughter Amy and her infant son lived with him. Rick greeted us with a big Texas howdy as we were moving in. He was slightly taller than me and broader in the shoulders. He had a wide smile on a square chiseled-jawed face.

The guy liked to hear himself talk, telling us most of his life story while standing in our driveway. "A big bullshitter," I thought. He didn't have any reservations about eyeing Venessa up and down right in front of me either. Later I mentioned he had a jae like Dudley Doright the cartoon Canadian Mounted Police character. "I don't know he looks ruggedly handsome to me,' Venessa replied. I think she said it to piss me off.

I was cutting the lawn a couple of days later. Rick's daughter pulled into his driveway. She was blonde and very pretty, with the body of a woman older than nineteen. Amy was short, maybe five-four, with big tits and a great ass.

I waved, turning off the mower. I walked over to introduce myself. She held her son who looked just like her with blonde hair and crystal blue eyes. She was coming from dental hygienist school. We talked for a short while. I found her to be charming and very mature for her age. "She may be raising her dad." I thought.

We had been in our house for about two weeks. We learned our other neighbor was also a divorcee and an old, retired Marine. The guy was always working on his front and back yards. I rarely saw him wearing anything but shorts and flip-flops. He was tall, maybe six-three with leathery tanned skin. You could see he used to be very fit. He was still muscular, but his muscles sagged a little. He had a beer belly that looked hard, not soft like jelly. He sported the same short haircut he probably wore as a private decades ago. When I did see him, he always had a cigarette hanging from his mouth and a beer or something stiffer in hand. The guy was clearly a functioning alcoholic.

I tried waving at him a few times. But he would look at me and walk off without waving back. "Grumpy old fart!" I thought. Venessa told me to ignore him. She thought he was just a vet with some unresolved issues.

Well finally he spoke one day, well he yelled to be more specific. He complained my grass clippings were getting into his backyard, some reaching his inground pool. I apologized, telling him I would attach my grass catcher. Rick told me to ignore the old bastard. If I wanted to make up to him, buy him a bottle of scotch.

After a few months, things seemed to be a lot better. I enjoyed my job and the military life. Rick would have folks over to his house a lot, us included. I still thought he was quite the braggart. But I found out from his friends a lot of what he boasted about was true. The guy was definitely a legend to his closest friends.

He was a member of the Golden Knights parachute team; he also had earned a Purple Heart and Silver Cross. According to a couple guys who served with him he was an adrenaline junkie. His pride and joy was his Harley motorcycle. Venessa was mesmerized when she saw him take off each day for work. It seemed like he was the master of so many things. He owned a water-ski boat, hunted with a crossbow and even scuba dived. The guy was up way too early every morning for his five-mile run rain or shine.

When he and his buddies told their war stories, Venessa sat at the edge of her seat, totally taken in by their tales. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree when Rick asked us if we wanted to do a tandem parachute jump with him and one of his buddies. I immediately passed thinking Venessa would as well. "Oh my God, can I?" she screamed excitedly.

On the day of the jump, I remained below at the drop zone. I was nervous for her. I fumed a little, thinking about Venessa tightly strapped to Rick for the jump. "His dick would be right against her ass!" I thought.

I watched as a single person jumped first. The tandem duo jumped next from ten thousand feet. My heart was in my throat, praying for the chute to open. "What was taking Rick so long to pull the chord!" I thought, beginning to panic.

I saw the plume of the chute as it unfurled. I could hear Venessa laughing and cheering as they got closer to landing. Rick twisted at the end to ensure he absorbed the brunt of the landing. He suffered a slight sprained ankle that mortified Venessa. Rick assured her he was fine. We ended up bringing dinner over for him and Amy that night. I was a little irked at how much Venessa primped before going over to his house.

After dinner, we looked at the pictures of their jump taken by his friend. Venessa talked excitedly about how she felt in each picture. Her face morphed from terrified to exuberant with each photograph. I kept looking at his body on top of hers. How her ass pressed into his crotch. His arm wrapped around her, a hand over her breast. "That fucker was copping a feel at ten thousand feet!" I fumed."

About a week later, we had a housewarming party. We finally knew enough people to have one. Well, right at one minute past ten. Burt from next door banged on our door, saying we were too loud. Reminding us it was quiet hours after ten o'clock. Even Venessa got a little hot when we had to shut down a fun party.

The next weekend, we were at the local lake with Rick and some of his buddies and their significant others. I teased Rick about being the only one without a date. "Haven't found the right one yet. That can keep up with me!" he retorted. Of course Venessa laughed the loudest at his remark.

Venessa stared at Rick when he took off his shirt, showing his fit body. What grabbed both of our attention were the pronounced bullet wound on his shoulder and a long scar down the center of his torso. Rick noticed us starring, "When you die a couple of times on the operating table you learn to appreciate life more." he said with a smile. I noticed Venessa shiver a little after his comment.

When the water shining started. You could have a driver and spotter in the boat while one or two people skied. Initially, Venessa and I went with Rick. Of course, the dude could ski like a pro. He used two skis at first, dropping one later. He was pulling off flips and jumps like he was born into it.

When it was Venessa's turn, she took to it quickly Her athleticism made her a quick learner. She only fell a couple of times before getting a knack for it. She laughed and screamed with excitement at experiencing another first, thanks to Rickt.

I couldn't quite master water skiing, but I did enjoy driving the boat. People rotated, taking turns going out on the water. Somehow found myself on the shore while Venessa went out on the water. Rick was always on the boat with her coincidentally. When they returned, she was always excited and joking with him. I had to listen to her describe some superhuman feat he accomplished on skis.

Back home, I was going to mention my concerns about Rick. I refrained because it would come across as I was jealous him. Besides I had to deal with the note Burt left on our door about a tree limb encroaching over on his property.

A few days later, I was mowing grass. Rick was getting ready to take a ride on his Harley. His daughter Amy was washing her car. Venessa brought me out some water to drink. She asked him where he was heading. "Just taking it out for a spin to the market. Grandson needs diapers. Wanna take a ride?" he said. "Fuck no!" I thought.

"Really! Babe, do you mind?" she asked. I did but just nodded ok. She ran inside to change clothes. She came out in tight jeans and a and a leather jacket i had never seen before. She climbed on the back of his bike, and off they went. Amy called me over; I helped her wash her car. She was in a white tee-shirt and cutoff shorts. I couldn't help but be distracted, keeping my mind off of Venessa having her hands wrapped around Rick on his bike.

Amy and I talked about school, life, and places we would like to travel too someday. I asked her why she wasn't into all the exciting things her dad did. "I want to live past fifty. But I understand why he is a thrill seeker," she said. I couldn't argue with her logic.

Venessa came back excitedly, ranting how much of a rush it was going fast down the highway. It was hot outside, and she removed the jacket. Completely unaware her hard nipples were poking through her top. But, I reminded myself I had to adjust my hard-on a few times while washing the car with Amy. I wasn't going to be a hypocrite.

A year later, Venessa was certified to solo parachute. She added parasailing to her growing list of new adventures. Neither of those two activities appealed to me. Our first big argument came over her buying a lady Harley. I was absolutely against the idea, it wasn't safe.

I conceded, not that I had a choice. Rick graciously offered to do ride-longs with her to help build her confidence. Often putting a hundred miles on her bike on a Sunday afternoon. Rather than brood, I would hang out with Amy. We would go to bookstores or walk her baby in a stroller. People would often stop us to praise how beautiful our baby was. We would just let it go not wanting to keep explaining our relationship.

We were at one of Rick's BBQ events in his backyard. "My shoulder is aching. Must be the weather is going to change." Rick said.

One of the lady guests laughed, "Get you one of those Nuru massages you like so much!"

"Not legal in this state and I don't want to fly overseas to get one," Rick replied.

Venessa asked what a "Nuru massage" was. "The masseuse uses their naked body to massage their naked patron and there is a lot of oil involved." replied another guest.

"Ohhhhh!" Venessa said, blushing profusely. Everyone laughed except me.

That night Venessa wanted to try the massage technique. I told her was nonsense. All that oil would make a huge mess. She told me I was a mood killer before rolling over facing away from me. She was up early the next morning. I heard her ride off to work on her Harley.

I had to go out of town for a few days for work. I tried to call her a couple of times, but she didn't answer. I figured she was mad at me for killing the mood the other night. We finished sooner than expected. I caught an early flight, hoping to surprise Venessa. I picked up some flowers at the airport. Parked down the street wanting to surprise her. I noticed her Harley parked next to Rick's in his driveway. Amy's car was gone, I assumed she was at school.

I walked up to Rick's house, and instrumental tantric music was playing inside. I entered through his side gate to his backyard. I thought they were in the back having a beer after a bike ride. I turned the corner, not seeing anyone there. I turned heading back out front. I froze in my footsteps, "Ohhhhh, that feels amazing!' Venessa said from inside. I walked to a side window, using the raised planter box to look inside.

Rick used the room to do calisthenics and stretching. There was a table with a Buddha statue and incense burning. On the large mat that took up most of the room., I watched Rick using his naked body to massage my wife. I dropped the flowers I had been holding, stunned into silence. They were both covered in oil from necks to toes. Venessa was on her stomach arms out in front of her. Rick pressed his chest into her back. Sliding down her body using his weight to massage her from her shoulders down to her firm ass. His knees pressed into her hamstrings and calves. Venessa was moaning, "It hurts so good!' she gasped.

Rick repeated the process over and over, making her moan and groan non-stop. My jaw dropped as he moved up each time his cock grew harder. It was about eight inches long and thick. She had to feel it smashing into her back and ass with each pass now. He stopped, and she moved onto her back. Her nipples were rock hard, and her cheeks were hot pink. Rick repeated the process, smashing his chest into her tits then sliding down her body, using his legs to massage her thighs at the same time. His hard cock pressed into her as he moved.

Venessa's chest was rising and falling with deep breaths. When she went to touch him with her hands. He held them down on the mat over her head as he continued sliding along her body. "Please, put it in!" she cried out.

Rick laughed, "That's not how it works." he said as he lay on his stomach.

Venessa let out a frustrated sigh as she moved on top of his back. She started to slide up and down his body. Her tits pressed into his back from his shoulders to his ass. She used her legs alternately, pressing a knee into the back of each of his legs. Her eyes were half closed and her mouth was open. It looked like she was riding a cock and bout to orgasm.

So many emotions were running through my mind. From wishing, I owned a gun to wanting to throw up. "How could you do this to me" I thought.

Rick rolled onto his back. Venessa reached for his cock like a bitch in heat. Rick pulled her hand away, smiling up at her. She pressed her teats into his chest, her head leaned to the side, her tongue flicked out licking his bullet wound scar. She slid down, licking the long scar on his torso from top to bottom. Still using her body to massage his. On her fourth pass, she reached between their bodies. Rick made no effort to stop her.

She paused for a moment, before pressing backward letting out a loud moan. "OH fuck I need this so bad!" she said. I watched as he let her ride herself to an orgasm. She came so intensely; her ass cheeks shook spasmodically. Ricked flipped her on her side fucking her hard as they spooned. Holding one of her legs up as he gripped a teat with the other hand. I watched his cock piston in and out of her swollen pussy. Venessa was babbling incoherently for the most part. Rick spasmed a few times cumming inside my wife.

I stepped off the planter having no clue what to do. I walked back to my car and got a hotel room. I started to call her a half dozen times but never made the call. I was going to ask her for a divorce. Beg for her not to fuck him again. Try and get an assignment away from her. Hire a hitman to take him out. Eventually, exhaustion caused brought the relief of sleep.

When I got home the next morning she was at work. I sat brooding at the house waiting for her to get home. Again, going through the same iterations as last night. I heard her Harley pull into the garage. When she walked in all I blurted out was, "Babe let's have a baby."Venessa looked at me like I lost my mind. We had talked about babies and not having any for quite some time. Venessa had said she may never want to have kids. Because she would feel compelled to get out of the military and she worked too hard to get where she was. She dropped her gear telling me it wasn't going to happen. Like a whipped puppy I acted like I was just joking. I had hoped in some weird way she had changed her mind and if we had a baby, she would just be happy with me.

Over the next few days, I found excuses to leave work early to be home before she was to prevent any repeats of that day. When the weekend approached, and Rick asked us to the lake I tried to make excuses why we couldn't go. "Babe you can hang out with your work friends; I'll go up to lake." Venessa offered. Miraculously the office thing was cancelled, and I could get up to the lake. Like the previous time at the lake. Somehow, I got knocked out of the rotation and wasn't on the boat with Venessa. We all took a break for lunch. Someone yelled we were running low on beer. Rick got up, saying he needed to gas up the boat, so he would buy more at the marina. He looked at Venessa. "You want to drive the boat?" he asked.

Without even a glance at me, she got up and walked down to the boat. I watched as they motored off down the shoreline. "What the fuck just happened?" I thought. No one else thought it was weird my wife went alone with Rick.

When they finally returned much longer than it should have taken. Her hair was dry when they left, now it hung down wet. He was sporting an obvious hickey on his neck. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked incredibly relaxed. "I know she fucked him!" I thought.

Venessa slept on the drive home. I wanted to confront her about Rick. "She would surely leave me for him then?" I feared. I concluded this was just a phase she was going through. He provided the excitement she craved. Eventually, the military would reassign us. Rick would be a thing of the past. I decided to endure the situation to keep her.

Fate would have it, the Army sent Rick on a three-month deployment. After a week I noticed Venessa seemed distracted. She would take long rides on her Harley. She even went on a solo parachute jump, with me waiting for her to land. She didn't seem as excited even though I cheered for her.

She was also less patient around the house. Trivial things seemed to set her off. We had sex, but it was like she was somewhere else. One afternoon I was in the kitchen prepping for dinner. I heard her Harley pull up. Then I heard shouting coming from Burt's backyard. I stepped out on our back patio to see what the commotion was about.

I was shocked to hear Burt and Venessa in a heated argument in his backyard. I was about to intervene but stopped. Venessa was using curse words I thought she didn't know. She was giving Burt an ear full, "Your problem, you old fuck is you haven't had any pussy in years! You probably can't even get it up!."