She laid naked upon her four-post bed, the silk sheets cold and smooth upon her bare skin. The bedroom lonely and dark save for the few lit candles upon the side table. Tears flowed from her soft green eyes, as she thought of him, as she thought of the love she lost. He was gone, she prayed that her deceased husband's soul was finally at peace. Done seeing the ugliness of a war that took him so far from home, so far from the love he felt for his wife, dying in the way he wanted, fighting for the love of his country. She prayed that he still felt the love radiating from her soul.
Killed in action in the war, he saved the lives of his platoon members, fighting to the very end to get them out of the line of fire alive. He never did see the grenade thrown while trying to get himself evacuated. When his platoon went back for him, it was too late. She received the news just that evening. She recalls the knock at the door with two army officers standing in front of her with somber looks upon their faces. One Major and one Lieutenant Colonel, she recognized both men as they were instructors at West Point before this war broke out in the Middle East.
She knew before the men could even speak that it was bad news. She knew her husband was dead. Before words were spoken she fell into the men sobbing, she wanted it to not be true. The men explained what had happened and that he was a hero, her husband was a national hero and she was going to be invited to Washington, D.C. to except his Purple Heart and his Medal of Honor post humorously.
The conversation was still so vivid in her mind. Lieutenant Colonel Copper saying, "Ma am we are so very sorry for your loss. I hold your late husband in the highest regard. He was one of our best students, a great soldier and a honorable man."
"Sir," she said through her tears. "You see him as a great soldier that gave his life for his country, a hero. He was a hero in my eyes long before this."
"Teresa," Major Houser began to speak. "We know what you must be feeling, and we are truly sorry, our condolences go out to you."
"With all due respect Major you do not have the right to even think that you know what I am feeling!" She quickly threw her head into hands began to sob heavily. "I am sorry, I don't mean to snap, I know that you two were his best friends."
"That is alright," Lieutenant Colonel Copper began. "That is why we wanted to be the ones to come over and deliver this horrible news. We didn't want strangers you didn't know to tell you about this. Teresa, Keith will be getting a Purple Heart for saving all those men's lives. It would be great if you could..."
"To honor Keith I will be there," she interrupted. "This is how he wanted to leave this earth," she said with tears still flowing down her blood flushed cheeks. "This is what he would have wanted."
She drifted off barely coherent as they explained what an honor it was to have taught him and served with him. How he was a good man. How they too would miss her husband. As they spoke her mind wandered, barely able to hear the words coming from their mouths. Yes, she knew how he would be missed, they did not need to explain this. They did not need to tell her he was a hero, to her he was already, long before he took his last breath. They stayed and sat with her for a while, however all she wanted was to be alone.
She had had enough of the stories of what he was, she wanted him back. She wanted to know what he would have been, she knew what he had been. She was more than relieved by the time they had left the home her and her now dead husband had worked so hard for.
The mire thought makes her sick to her stomach. The thought that she will never be able to hold him again, that the family he so desperately wanted to start will never happen. Though even in her grief-stricken state she was also extremely proud of him, he, Captain Keith Duncan, her husband, was a hero. Emotions ran through her body that she could not fight. A smile through her tears came into being as she would always remember his good heart and his love of the red, white and blue. Her pride swelled, as she thought of how proud he was when he made Captain, and how he always said that it would be an honor and a privilege to die fighting for the freedom he so believed in. "Freedom is not free," was his motto. She knew that he wanted to leave this earth defending the country that he loved to much. She knew that there was a chance of him not coming home to her.
The open window let the breeze wave the curtains across the dimly lit room. The candle fire flickered in the cool breeze. She heard the ocean waves upon the rocks outside. She smiled slightly as she arose from her bed, still nude and walked slowly to the window. She looked outside to see the moonlight over the water, fog lightly covering the surface. She remembered how Keith so loved the ocean. He was just a farm boy from Iowa before he was accepted to WestPoint, he was a young cadet when he first laid eyes upon the ocean's vastness; right then and there he fell in love with it. His love for it would prompt him to buy the house that she now was in alone. She looked down upon her hand to see her wedding ring and she again broke down in tears. "No, maybe it was a mistake, maybe it wasn't him," she whispered to herself in a cracked soft voice.
She again looked at her ring of gold and diamonds, still upon her left hand, and thought of the day that he placed it on her finger. It was just weeks before he was to graduate from WestPoint. He took her to the pier overlooking Hudson Bay, one morning after an early breakfast. The fog still hovering above the chilly water, the sun not quite awake in the sky. She remembers it being a very beautiful and romantic sight. He was holding her from behind, his muscular arms wrapped firmly around her waist. She felt his breath and soft nibbles on her neck, while they were enjoying the beauty of the scenery, when he suddenly spun her around to face him. He fell to one knee and took that very ring out of his pocket. She still remembers his exact words to her on that damp cool morning, "Teresa," he said in is low baritone voice, "I vow to you that I will love you forever if you give this ol' farm boy a chance, I vow to never hurt you and vow to never lay my head down at night with anger inside of me. Baby, what I am trying to ask is will you marry me?"
She remembered the tears flowing from her eyes at that moment, the same as now in that dim bedroom. Her thoughts turn to her pulling him up to her as he put that golden band on her finger and kissing him passionately. "Oh, Keith you have made me so thrilled. YES, oh God yes I will marry you!"
He was a military man, a man of value and strength both physical and mental, but that day was the only time he allowed his emotion to show. His love for her was so great that he cried right there in front of her. "Baby," he said, "you the only person that could ever make me feel this way, I promise you that I will always be there when you need me and that you will never feel alone."
The wind blows gently on the ocean below her window. She turns from her ocean view to her bed. She begins to feel guilty as her sorrow for her lost husband turns to lust to have his body beside her, even if just one more time. She thinks again back to that day at the pier, the ring, the proposal. The night air feeling the same as that morning, oh it had been five years ago. She remembered bending over on the rail of the empty pier and lifting her skirt up for him. Sliding her moist panties over to the side revealing her pink lips. How he slid inside of her right there, oh the feeling of him pressed up against her from behind, deep inside of her. The thought made her twinge with guilt, but made her excited as well.
She thought of him fucking her from behind on that pier on that early cool morning. How she could feel every inch throbbing deep inside of her. How she gripped the hand rail as he covered her mouth as she tried to scream, while her juices mixed with his. How he slid out and zipped his pants up and she slid her soaked panties back over her pulsating hole.
A smile briefly came on her face, as she thought of how after their physical encounter that morning they held hands and walked down the pier. They watched the passing boats, while he held her tight. How they never got caught she will never know. It was too much and her already wet pussy began to throb again in her desire for him.
She laid her naked body on the bed, her lustful thoughts too much for her to handle. She licked her fingers, and ran them down her exposed neck down to her breasts, pinching and pulling on her nipples, wishing her husband was there sucking on them. Wanting to feel his breath on her skin. She continued to tease her nipples, while one hand slid down between her legs. Her fingers entered her moist hole, making her moan more with each wet push. She took her fingers out and licked them clean, tasting her own sweet juices. Only to insert them back into herself and fantasize about him being there with her. His body weight pressed against hers, his long passionate kisses as he thrusted inside of her.
How guilty she felt and torn. Her thoughts divided in lust and anger. Her thoughts of the promise he made that day on the pier started to make her angry. To never leave her, to never leave her alone. The lust and was almost to much to bare though and the anger was gone as quickly as it came.
Her lustful fantasy was almost real as she bent over on her bed and fingered her sweet hole, wishing it was him. Him behind her pounding her, she could almost feel his balls smacking her, his hands rubbing upon her back. She began to finger faster and deeper, inserting two and then three fingers. Rubbing her free hand around her breasts and down the side of her body, and finally to her ass that was up in the air. She began to spank herself, and with each smack of skin she got closer to her womanly respite. "Oh, God Keith, fuck me!" Her words the words of pain from loss and desire for pleasure. Now four fingers where inserted inside her and her clit was enflamed with sensitivity.
