D e n i
Copyright Deni Wom 2008
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By Deni

A p a r t
Part 1


Like a small bird pecking at the unprotected underbelly of an eagle, she had pestered him mercilessly for their whole marriage. It was fun for her. Like an eagle, he moved much more slowly and carefully than she did. Her nimble tongue said things that, after he left, and when she thought more deeply about it, were over the line.

But it was too late. She woke up one morning and he had already left for work. That night he simply didn’t come home.

Nor the frantic next day, nor the heartbreaking day after that. She had called every one she could think of. His family did not return her calls.

Her heart fractured into a million pieces when she finally realized that he wasn’t coming home anymore.

Her best friend helped her pick up the pieces over the next few months.

Easi had been her friend for more years than either of them could really count. Oddly enough, neither of them had any clear recollection of how they had met. And they were polar opposites. They both admitted they had no idea why they were friends. It was not that they fought. They didn’t. They were just so different in tastes and likes and activities.

Yet when they talked on the phone, or in person, they both felt wonderfully magically connected.

About three months after Mathew had left her, Lori just happened to run into her husband’s half sister at the mall in a large city that was about a hundred and fifty miles from Lori’s home. The half sister had perfunctorily informed her that Mathew had been called up to Iraq and had gone with his unit to protect his country.

The half sister’s face had all the earmarks that said ‘Why the hell do you care, bitch?’

Easi had caught Lori when she fainted dead away at the most unwelcome news.

Mathew’s half sister had simply turned on her heal and walked away without even glancing back.

 

That news was very hard on Lori’s self esteem. It seemed incomprehensible to her that her husband’s love, once so deep and caring and tolerant, had evaporated like water in the Iraqi hot desert air until his reservoir of love was dried up, empty.

Ten or twelve sessions of solo marital counseling helped her comprehend the fact that she had been contributing nothing into their marriage for almost a decade. It slowly became clear to her that sex was the glue that binds a man and a woman together when things are going well. Without it, marriages eventually come apart. Even if other things are good in a marriage. She discovered she was a merciless, and inept, sexual teaser.

Among other things, Lori vowed to herself that she would win her husband’s love and respect back. She vowed to become the best in bed, and to prove that to her husband. Easi and she put their heads together and began to scheme.

Their first shot across his well defended bow came on February 14th. Yes, it was Valentines Day. Even in Iraq, it was Valentines Day.

Easi helped Lori buy a sexy little bikini that fit her like a latex glove. Lori had been losing weight steadily as she pined for Mathew. Her body was now devoid of excess fat. She looked fantastic. And the photo they took showed it.

After a lot of trial and error, and a call to Easi’s brother, they managed to attach the photo to an email. The email read:

“Darling, I want to apologize to you for how I have treated you. I vow to you that my attitude is better now. I miss you so much darling. Every day, I miss you. Every night I miss you. Honey, I have not dated anyone since you left. And I have been going to marital counseling and learning how to meet your needs honey. I know now just how mean I was to you. And I am sorry. It was not deliberate. I was just a selfish and inconsiderate immature bitch. I can see that clearly now baby. I know you are still getting my emails because they are not coming back to me. So please honey, give me another chance? Please? I promise to be the best wife you could ever have from now on. I am sending you a picture of me in my new swim suit. I know I used to get mad at you when you wanted me to show my body off, and of course I always refused. Well, honey, now, if you want to, you can show my body off to your buddies . . . . if you choose to of course. I give you my “no restrictions OK” on that. After this, from now on, I will do whatever you want me to do sexually, OK? Just tell me what you want me to do for you. The word “No” is no longer in my vocabulary when it comes to us and sex. OK honey?

I love you
YOUR Lori”

Easi hugged Lori tightly after she clicked the “Send” button. “This is going to work out baby. I can feel it,” she promised Lori without conviction.

Lori nodded her head vigorously, the tears flowing down her cheeks, faintly hopeful that Easi would be right.

 

Part 2

Sergeant Mathew Snead was snoring, asleep on his cot, having pulled guard duty on the last guard shift of the night. He was exhausted even before he pulled guard duty. So his squad was having to put up with his raucous rhythmic snoring on the other side of the tent flap.

It was Private Brad Leffler, who had been delegated shit duty to clean the whole tent, that first saw the photo of the Sarg’s wife. The Sarg had zonked out right when he was reading her email. He had printed all of his email out as he always did, including the picture, on his way back to the tent after guard duty. He was just too tired to read it right now!

It goes without saying that ALL the guys were extremely horny, no women for month after month. Very little chance to masturbate to relieve themselves. No privacy. The girly magazines only made matters worse. The hornies were a way of life in Iraq, or in any war, for that matter.

And then to see a picture of the sarg’s wife . . . . . and in a tiny weenie bikini no less! Brad’s already overwrought libido went into overdrive. His thoughts turned to prurient fantasies. His eyes were the size of dinner plates! ‘WOW! What a bod! And for god’s sake, look at that god damn Camel Toe! Nice titties! What is up with that freaking scowl? I bet she’s a dyed in the wool bitch! . . . . . . . .I’d fuck her though! . . . . .If’n I got a chance! . . . . . Holy shit! Look at that nip!’

Brad’s cock was rock hard when he finally moved on, cleaning the rest of the squad’s tent, his eyes glancing furtively at the picture of the sergeant’s wife every few seconds. He could almost feel his cock fucking into her cunt! He was so distracted that he didn’t even realize his trousers were tented as he walked back into the main part of the tent.

Spec 4 Tyron Racine chuckled as he watched Brad’s raunchy crotch moving toward him, wet spot on it and all. “Hey dick butt! What porn you been lookin at fuck head? Big ole hard-on like that!? Jeeeeeeez!”

Brad blushed bright red as he tried to cover up his tell tale pavilion. “Sheeeet man, ya otta see the Sarg’s wife! He’s got a pic a her on his chest while he’s a sleepin!”

That was all it took for Tyron to jet off toward the Sarg’s normally “private” quarters. It wasn’t much of a risk, the sarg was snoring loud enough to call in an air strike for pete’s sake! The rest of the horny inquisitive squad followed, their curiosity causing their better judgment to evaporate like spit in the desert sand.

Their mouths hung open as they stared unabashedly at the Sarg’s wife’s body. No one dared to pick the picture up off his chest. But their eyes stared at the magical little cleft so clearly visible in the photo. Her sweet little cunt looked like it could handle all of them and still need more.

The men stood there staring until Sarg grunted and turned over on his side. The picture fell off his chest and onto the floor.

Spec 4 Gary Masterson, who worked for the lieutenant in the base office, reverently picked it up and spirited it off to make color copies for all the guys.

As luck would have it, Sarg had to take a leak just as Gary was returning the picture to the floor beside him. His hand on Gary’s wrist scared Gary so badly that Gary almost soiled himself!

 

A few hours later, Sarg happened to see the corner of the picture hanging out from under Corporal Scott’s McAllister’s pillow. Suspicious, Sarg jerked it out, confirmed it was the picture of his wife, them angrily slapped the picture back down on the cot.

Scott was terrified.

“So! . . . . . You wishin you could fuck her, Corporal?” Sarg asked testily.

Scott blushed bright red. But he was wise enough to stay silent.

“I asked you a question, Corporal. Would you like to stick your dick up inside my wife’s camel toe cunt and fuck her silly?”

Spec 4 Tyron finally broke the tension by saying “Damn straight Sarg! I’d love to stick my big black cock up inside that sweet little white cunt of hers!”

Sarg turned to glare at Tyrone. “So, you want to FUCK my wife, but you have NO idea what her TITS really look like do you?”

“No, but if they’re white, they’ll do, Sarg!” It was as though Tyrone had no fear.

“Then let’s tell her she has to send us a picture of her naked tits so you horny fuckers can all jerk off on them when you think no one is looking!” Sarg chuckled as he turned and headed for the chow line.

Gary looked at Tyrone. “What the fuck was that all about Ty?”

Tyrone, in his worldly way just chuckled. “Sounds to me like the Sarg is pissed at his old lady, ma boy! This here could get interesting!”

 

Part 3

It had been two days since Lori had sent her email off with its embarrassingly revealing picture. She found herself not even able to look at it again, the way it showed off her “lower cleavage”.

But, still hoping that her husband would again, sometime, begin to regard her as his beloved wife, she sat down at her computer with heart filled with faint hope that she would receive an email back from him.

The little blinky face smiled at her for an eternity before it finally dissolved into her in-basket. Then, suddenly, there it was! An email from Matt!

Lori began to cry, happy tears flooding her cheeks, her breaths coming in gasps of glorious exultation. With quivering fingers, she guided the cursor to the precious email envelope and carefully double clicked to open it. With wide hopeful eyes, she read the following email from her beloved husband.

“Lori,

The guys wanted to thank you for the picture of your camel toe. They have been jerking off to your pussy and belly for the last two days. Your pussy has been the recipient of the cum from everyone in the squad, plus a number of other men that have come over to visit. You are quite the hit here in Iraq.

The guys now want a picture of your tits, naked, proud and hard nippled.

We’ll see if you meant what you said in your email.

Matt”

In absolute shock, Lori sat there, reading the email over and over. It was only after she had read it many times that she realized it had an attachment. She scrolled down to see a picture of a man’s erect member over the picture of her body. She was not sure, but she didn’t think it was Matt’s. It occurred to her that she had no idea what Matt’s body actually looked like! She felt a sickening shame that she had no idea if it was her husband’s or some other, unknown male’s member.

As Lori went through her day, she kept having mental flashes of the picture. That erect manhood floating over her own body as if it were attracted to her lower opening. What had her husband called it? “Cameltoe”? Obviously the man that was the support organism for the penis had been staring at her vividly obvious body and was physically excited by that vision of her. She decided she would ask one of her worldly friends what the enigmatic term meant.

Obeying a call of nature just after lunch, she discovered to her surprise that her cleft was very, very moist. She could not remember that having ever happened before. Also, she realized guiltily, she could clearly detect her scent. THAT had never happened before either. She blushed bright red as she reflected about her body betraying her over some tawdry picture of a man’s rampant member floating over what was obviously her sexuality.

Half embarrassed, Lori looked down at her little cleft embedded in her tawny curls. It seemed to be in need of a slight touch. It seemed to be saying to her, “Touch me, please!” Lori decided that touching her own body could not possibly cause her any harm. So she allowed her finger tip to touch the tiny pink nubbin that was just visible protruding from between her cleft.

Lori groaned in a surprised but deliciously private euphoria when her finger tip came slightly in contact with her own tiny clitoris for the very first time. Her eyes fluttered as she thought about how good her private touch had felt.

Then, again, she allowed herself to touch her glistening little privacy. It felt sooooo darned good!

Lori thought back to what she had heard her high school girlfriends talking about. Was this it? Was this the masturbation that her excited chums had giggled about so many times?

Lori’s thighs slowly surrendered to her needs as they drifted apart, unhurriedly exposing her inexperienced, previously absurdly inhibited womanhood to her own prurient pleasures. As she surrendered, leaning back against the toilet seat, allowing her finger to investigate her most private parts, the vision of that erection, that COCK wavering above her own obvious cleft kept flooding her mind. The fact that it might be a stranger’s member made her belly even more fluttery.

Within seconds, her fingers were hesitantly experimenting with how to pleasure her self. She heard herself moan softly. Her fingers dipped within her wet well of desire just as the door to the women’s restroom opened and someone’s voice of giggling camaraderie flooded over her.

Lori sat up abruptly and reassembled herself, her newly discovered yet uncomfortably strong need unfulfilled. Intensely embarrassed at having been almost discovered, Lori forgot to ask her friend what “Cameltoe” meant.

 

That evening, Lori as usual, was on the phone with her best friend. Easi finally said, “Cut the crap, Lori, what the hell is bugging you?”

Lori burst into tears, as she finally related that she had gotten an email back from Mathew.

“So what the hell is wrong with that, Lori?” asked Easi. “Seems to me that you would be happy, not frantic and crying! Damn woman, what do you want from him anyway?”

She sniffled. “I’ll read it to you, Easi, just a sec.” Lori brought up the email and read the words to her best friend. Then, realizing that without Easi seeing the picture, she would not truly understand the total impact of the words. “Easi, I am going to send you the email so you can see the picture that came back with it, OK?”

A few moments later, Easi began to giggle as she looked at the picture. “Damn girl! Even their cocks have camo on them! That is so hot! But . . . . . that’s not Matt’s cock!”

There was a long silence as both women tried to come to terms with the meaning of Easi’s flippant excited comment.

Finally Lori just had to know. “And just how do you know THAT, Easi?” she asked, her voice filled with a Siberian frost.

There was a long silence during which Easi cleared her throat twice. She then began to talk in a low, soothing voice. “Lori, honey, you are my very best friend. BUT! Honey, you are a prig!” Easi paused for a few seconds, then continued. “Do you remember when I was dating Jack many years ago?”

“Yeah . . .”

“Well, Jack and Mathew were high school chums. I don’t know if you knew that or not.”

“No, I didn’t.” The ice had not yet melted in Lori’s voice, but a sprig of hurt was audible through the obvious remaining frost.

“Well, they were, and we ran into Matt one evening when you were out of town for some damn meeting or something, I don’t’ remember what it was. And we all had a beer or two . . . . or maybe three. One thing led to another and Jack convinced us all to go skinny-dipping. It was late spring, and I think we were all just feeling both the beer and the time of the year.”

Easi stopped talking for a minute.

“Go on.” Lori demanded, ready to have her selfish heart smashed any second.

“Well, nothing happened, . . . . . other than . . . . . Well, Jack and I had sex as Matt watched us. Matt played with himself while he watched. Jack and I both had a chance to see just how small your husband’s dick is.”

“Mathew’s thing is small?” Lori was not prepared for that bit of news.

“Are you telling me you have never seen Matt’s dick?” Easi was incredulous.

Lori flushed crimson, humiliated beyond belief by having admitted, tacitly, that she had never really seen her husband’s naked body. “Noooooo.”

“Lori! What the hell?” Easi was beyond surprised. She had thought she knew this woman, her beast friend, well!

“Lori, have you ever actually enjoyed sex?”

Softly, Lori murmured, “No.” Her face was awash with shame.

“You have NEVER had an ORGASM?”

Even softer, a barely audible, “No.”

Lori could not handle the intense feelings of humiliation that she was experiencing, so she just hung up the phone, then crawled into bed, pulling her pillow over her head, sobbing.

The phone rang about ten times before the door bell rang.

Easi pounded on the door for a few minutes before she fetched a key from under the door mat and let herself in. Once inside, she hurried from room to room until she found her best friend buried in her covers, her head stuffed under the covers like the proverbial ostrich.

Slipping out of her shoes, Easi slid in under the sheets and snuggled to Lori’s hot, sweaty, sob wracked body. Her arms around Lori felt both out-of-place, yet comforting.

 

An hour or so later, Easi set a cup of hot tea in front of Lori’s elbows. Lori was now sitting at the breakfast bar, her chin in her hands, still despondent. “Here honey, have some green tea. It’ll make you feel better.”

Lori looked down at the cup, then picked it up and cradling it in her hands, savoring its warmth as though it was the only comfort she had in the world.

Easi spoke suddenly.

“Lori, go take your damn top off, we are going to send those brave soldiers a picture of your lovely tits. They deserve it and it will at least allow you to say to Matt, ‘See, I did this all for you!’”

Lori just sat there staring at Easi like she had been suddenly declared mentally incompetent.

Finally, frustrated, Easi walked over and retrieved her miniature camera from her purse, pushed Lori’s arms out of the way, and unbuttoned Lori’s blouse. She tweaked Lori’s naked nipples until they were bright red and hard, then quickly snapped four pictures of a surprised Lori’s nakedness.

Without even asking, she crossed the room and downloaded the pictures onto Lori’s computer, selected the best one, and opened email. She typed the following email message as a mortified Lori watched, shocked and vulnerable.

“Dearest Mathew,

I am glad that your friends enjoyed seeing me and were able to find some small relief from the image of your wife’s body. As requested, here is a picture of my breasts for your friends to enjoy as well. I am doing this for you, baby, because I love you with all my heart.

Things are fine here, but I miss you horribly and need to feel your arms around me again.

Dreaming of you,
Your loving wife
Lori”

Before Lori could stop her, Easi hit send and the email and the revealing picture was on its way.

Lori stood there with her mouth wide, in shocked incapacity at how fast she had been reduced to a picture of her breasts.

“You know what girl, you have damn nice tits!” Easi said as she closed the email program, put her coat on, and then left for home.

A flabbergasted Lori slowly rebuttoned her blouse as she sat at the breakfast bar in her own kitchen.

The image of that soldier’s rampantness returned to her mind.

Lori took a steamy, long, hot bubble bath, trying her best to ignore what had happened to her on this, her day of infamy. Her insistent body kept demanding that she pay intimate attention to it. Her hesitant hand caressed her nipples, still a little sensitive from Easi’s rude pinchings.

When the water got cold, Lori dried herself off quickly, then went to bed snuggled softly in her warm flannel jammies. She dreamed of risqué touchings and penetrations by men she did not know. She dreamed of being exposed as her husband watched her lewd antics. She dreamed of having her own needs met, needs she did not realize she had until this day of changes.

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