The members of the whole unit were primed for seeing the picture of the Sarg’s wife’s pussy. They had been waiting for days for this privilege. At last the email from her had arrived! Everybody knew this, the rest of the company had found out what was happening in the Sarg’s little squad. Then the word spread from Company Headquarters that email from Sarg’s wife had come in, with attachments, and that had signaled that the gods of war and sex had been particularly beneficent to them today.

Like all military camps, the news of a sexy picture had spread like wild fire, even before the Sarg had gotten back. As a result, there were men filling the squad’s tent, and there were even men standing outside in the heat of the setting sun when Sarg walked toward his makeshift home.

“What the fuck?” he asked himself as he walked toward his squad’s quarters. He was greeted by a bunch of cheesy grins, and eyes that seemed hollow with their natural animal need, too long ungratified, to be with a female.

It was Corporal McAllister who handed the email and the printed picture in question to the Sarg as he elbowed his way in through the tent flap. The Sarg chuckled when he saw what was causing the ruckus.

“Well, you silly pin heads, pass it around so everyone can see her god damn cunt and yank your pathetic little wieners over her!” With that he went into his own more private space, still snickering.

Without asking, Corporal McAllister had magnanimously made copies for everyone. So each man in the company was rewarded for his presence with his own personal copy of the Sarg’s wife’s cunt, wide open and obviously glistening with her own wetness.

There was a nervous lineup at the latrine all evening long, each man having a folded treasure in his shirt pocket that he intended to anoint lavishly with his family jewelery.

The next day, Spec 4 Racine received word that his mother had finally passed after a six year battle with cancer. He had resigned himself to her passing years ago, but he still needed to grieve, to be present at her funeral, to be there for his brothers and sisters. His father had passed nine years before.

As he and his Sergeant discussed his leave, it suddenly hit the Sarg that this could be an excellent way of having fun with his bitchy wife’s proclamation that her body was his to tell her what to do with.

He looked Racine in the eye and smirked.

“What the hell was that all about, Sarg? You looked like you just ate the General’s dessert and got away with it!” Tyron grinned back at the Sarg’s smirking face. He knew the Sarg well enough to know that this was going to be good!

Speaking softly, conspiratorially, the Sarg leaned close to Tyrone. “Tyrone, I need to ask you to do me a really huge favor!”

“Sure Sarg, what gives? Need me to bring you something back from the states?”

The Sarg chuckled. “No, this’ll be something better than that. I need you to help me settle a score. With my bitchy wife.”

Tyrone thought back to his intense masturbation session the evening before as he soiled his copy of the picture of the Sarg’s wife’s cunt. His load had landed directly on her glistening pussy lips. He was almost daring to hope that the miracle he had fantasized about last evening could actually come true. He held his breath.

The Sarg leaned forward and spoke in a low, confidential voice. “I need you to stay at my house when you are home. And . . . . .” he looked deeply into Tyrone’s eyes, “and I need you to fuck her white cunt till her eyeballs fall out.”

“No shit Sarg? You want me to fuck your wife in your bed while I am on leave?” Tyrone just could not believe his good luck! The Sarg’s wife was a stone fox!

The Sarg nodded in confirmation. “And lets be clear, I want you and any buds you want to bring home to fuck her till her cunt is so sore she cries when you stick your black dick in her. Understand?”

Now Tyrone really was riding high! He was going to get to fuck a white woman all he wanted to the whole time he was on leave! He felt his cock swell into full blown erection in his desert camo’s. Even though his heart was still tender over the loss of his mother, he was excited to go home and enjoy the extraordinary privileges he had just been granted.

Then, like every dream, he began to doubt whether this was really happening to him. “You’re shitting me, right Sarg? You don’t really want me to fuck your wife while I am there, right?” It just sounded too good to be true.

“Damn straight I’m serious! In fact, like I said, I want you to bring your brothers and buddies over and all of you fuck her. Gang bang her and fuck her till her cunt and asshole are too sore for her to walk if you want to. I don’t give a fuck. She has treated me like shit for our whole marriage, so I am just returning fair play.” The Sarg went to his foot locker and retrieved his key to his house. He handed it to Tyrone and then hugged him like a brother. “Enjoy your time away from this hell hole, ma man! And use that black dick of yours to fuck her bareback as much as you want to. Breed that bitch! Got it?”

Tyrone, always extraordinarily perceptive, saw the pain in his Sarg’s face as he spoke of how he had, for so long, been treated like a dirt bag by his wife. Tyrone decided to follow his Sarg’s orders to the letter! “You can count on me, Sarg. She will walk bow legged for weeks after me and my buddies get done with her. Want pictures?”

The Sarg’s face lit up. “Damn straight! Send us all pictures and videos of you and her with you and all the other dicks you can find while you’re all fucking her damn cunt! Lets give these poor grunts stranded her in the dunes a good peep show, and plenty of fodder to hand fuck themselves over!”

Tyrone felt like he had just been given the key to the front gate of the golden city!

A p a r t
Part 7

Tyrone, dressed in his full dress uniform, knocked on the door he believed to be the residence of his sergeant’s estranged wife. He sensed eyes looking at him through the windows before he heard noises of someone seeming to walk to the door. He heard the lock turn, and then a reticent, barely visible face peered out at him, squinting into the full light of day. The eyes looked him over.

“Is Matt dead? Is that why you’re here?” a small, scared voice asked. The voice seemed to catch, as if about to burst into tears.

Tyrone suddenly felt terrible that he was causing the woman such turmoil. “Oh! NO ma’am! Sergeant Snead is fine, but he sent me here to give you a message. Might I come in ma’am?”

“Who are you?” she asked, still seemingly close to tears.

“I am Spec 4 Tyrone Racine, and yes I am a member of your husband’s squad in Iraq. My mother recently died, so I received a pass to come home for her funeral. I have a message from your husband to you, if you wish to let me in so that I can give it to you.”

Hesitantly the woman opened the door and stepped back. Tyrone stepped in out of the heat, happy to discover that the house was air-conditioned.

“You said you have a message?” The woman did not look like the woman Tyrone had seen in the picture.

“Are you Sergeant Snead’s wife, Lori, ma’am?” Tyrone was getting suspicious.

The woman giggled. She turned her head toward the inner parts of the house and hollered, “LORI! Someone here to see you! He’s CUTE! And he has a message from Matt!”

Tyrone instantly recognized the Sarg’s wife as she came around the corner into the front entry. He eagerly looked up and down her figure, happy to see that in real life she was every bit as sexy as she was in the pictures that he had masturbated onto many times. ‘Too bad she wears such modest clothes. I’ll have to change that while I am here!’ he thought.

Lori stood watching him, her eyes appraising him like a gourmet chef at a Saturday morning fish market. Finally she asked “Where’s Matt’s message? Is it in writing, or is it a verbal one?”

Tyrone chuckled. He could tell by disdainful the look on her face that she had some sort of inkling about what the message might say. He held out the envelope to her. Her girlfriend instantly grabbed it and tore it open.

‘What the fuck!’ Tyrone thought. ‘Who the hell is this other bitch? I may have to train her to have some manners while I’m here!’ He stepped forward and grabbed Easi’s wrist. He plucked the torn envelope and letter from her hand and again handed them to Lori. “Don’t you ever do that again, woman. You hear me? That letter is for my sarg’s wife, not you.”

The woman laughed in his face. “Who the hell do you think has been writing the letters back to him, anyway? HER? Not likely! She would stew for months over being required to even pretend to like sex. It’s me that takes the pictures and sends the damn letters back. If it were up to her, the two of them would be divorced already. And who the hell are you to order me around anyway?”

Tyrone slapped her. Not hard enough to cause injury, nor leave a mark. But hard enough that it got her attention. “Now listen up you damned bitch, you’re acting like a horse’s ass. I already told you that you will NOT act that way while I am here. Do I make myself clear?”

Easi held her cheek where she had been slapped. She looked at the black man standing there and realized she had met her match. But rather than admit it out loud, she simply turned on her heal and walked away.

With fearful eyes, Lori read the letter that Matt had sent:

“Lori, I have sent my right hand man home to take care of some family matters. While he is there, he has agreed to teach you a few lessons about being a woman.

“I have given you to him while he is home. You are to do whatever he says, 24 hours a day and 7 days a week while he is there. ANYTHING he asks! Is that clear enough for you?

“Matt”

Lori’s eyes slowly rose from the paper to Tyrone’s face. “Oh shit!” she moaned.

“Any questions, about what he meant?” asked Tyrone officiously.

“No, I understand,” replied Lori in a defeated, petulant tone.

Tyrone had played this scenario in his mind over and over as he flew home. “All righty then! Take all your clothes off right here in the entryway!”

Lori started to protest, then obviously thought better of it. Her hands went to the lower hem of her loose shapeless shirt. She pulled it unceremoniously over her head, exposing her naked breasts. Tyrone was impressed. Then her thumbs hooked inside her shorts and pulled both them and her panties down in one stroke. She stepped out of them, then stood there blushing, naked except for her tennyrunners, her eyes on the floor. She made no effort to cover her private parts. “Do you wish me to take my shoes off as well?” she asked, surprising herself by her meek tone.

Tyrone decided to reward her for her ready compliance. “No, your shoes are fine. Very good. I expect you to take off your clothes the minute you come into the house while I am here. You will not dress again until you are readying yourself to leave. You will not leave without my permission. Do you understand?”

Lori felt her nipples growing tight, she could feel their rigid protrusions as she stood naked before this perfect stranger. She suspected he had seen the lewd pictures of her back in Iraq. The thought of that made her feel a slight tremor in her lower belly. She hated herself for liking how he made her feel.

Her eyes flickered to his crotch. She could not stop herself from wondering . . . .

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