The Rocketeer: Fifty Mission Crush

Cliff’s hands roamed over Jenny’s abundant breasts, not so much feeling their considerable warmth and softness as soaking in the good, cool, comforting feeling of touching her again. Having her in his arms and being with her himself. Jenny moaned, stretching her arms out to either side of her, her eyes joyously closed while Cliff studied and teased her naked body as though to memorize the indelible perfection of her all over again. To reassure himself that she was as oh-so-beautiful as he remembered, his Jenny, his lovely, wonderful wife.

Her nipples were exactly as turgid and rosy as they’d been when he’d left them eight months ago, crowning the crests of her round, firm breasts like tiny pink gemstones. Above them, her throat dipped gently, rising up along her slender, graceful neck as tenderly as he could ever caress her. Her head twisted to the side, exposing a dainty ear laden with her darkly silken strands of hair. He brushed them aside to kiss her shell-like earlobe, then her soft neck, working his lips down to her breasts, where a hard nipple filled his mouth. He sucked it eagerly, glutting his lips while her generous cleavage still left plenty of flesh for his hands to squeeze and stroke.

“Mmmm—Cliff Secord… the way you do that makes it feel like an absolute sin,” she moaned breathily, running her slender fingers through his dark hair. “I can’t rightly say I feel like a married woman when every time you touch me it kicks like moonshine!”

Cliff caught her nipple between his teeth, grinding his teeth’s sharp points into the stiff but giving marble, then relaxing his grip to let it roll to another point in his mouth, where he bit down on it again. Jenny’s response was a chorus of lilting sighs, unable to grow used to how he was servicing her when he never settled for one way to pleasure her hardened nipple.

“What’s wrong with a little moonshine?” Cliff asked, letting her tortured nipple pop out of his mouth. His attention, and hers, was now on his rough hand gliding down her voluptuous body, arriving at the ivory flesh of her thigh, where he rubbed and squeezed. His touch was gentle, but Jenny was so tender that it felt rough.

“I’m so glad you’re home,” Jenny moaned dreamily, lolling her head back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

She pulled him down to her until his mouth met hers. At first their lips pressed together softly, sharing the same warmth as their tongues danced playfully together. Then Jenny cupped his handsome face in her hands and pulled his mouth hard against hers, her tongue wiggling frantically to his.

His hands stole up her thighs and felt at her pubic thatch. Jenny moaned, sucking at his tongue, drawing it deep into her mouth just as his fingers delved far into her cunt. Cliff felt Jenny’s lips graze against his while her hips bucked, driving her pussy onto his fingers. He pumped them slowly into her, Jenny sliding her own hands over his muscular body, digging her fingernails into his back when his fingers scored at her G-spot.

Then he left her mewling with her pleasure—that same, appetite-whetting orgasm—to feel her out, one hand massaging her breasts while the other cradled her neck, holding her in place for another rough kiss. Jenny broke loose of it to let out an explosive sigh—he’d twisted her nipple just the right amount to leave her pleasure exceeding her pain—and Cliff nibbled at her ear, rubbed his tongue in and out of it, making Jenny tremble as she remembered how his fingers had pumped into her sex. How his cock had done so, seemingly up until the moment he’d left.

“No more waiting,” she gasped, sliding her hand down his back to cup his ass, pulling at the firm muscle in an attempt to compel his hips to thrust against her, to set the rhythm that would dominate her pleasure for a small eternity.

Cliff went willingly with Jenny’s desire; there was nothing he would rather do than please her. He shifted so he was between her open legs, guiding his rigid prick to her trembling folds. He rested the knob against Jenny’s warm, tight slit, her with lips parted, panting as the thought of him inside her became inescapable.

She wrapped her legs dutifully around his waist, locking her heels together behind his ass, knowing she would have little control once he started except to pull him deeper into her. In fact, she doubted she would have the control to let him draw his prick back out, but his taut muscles would take care of that. He’d wrench himself free, she’d moan in dismay, and he’d feed himself into her soft body all over again. In hindsight, it seemed like Jenny had thought of very little else when he’d been gone. Certainly nothing important.

“Welcome home,” Jenny sighed, satisfied already to look up at his princely face, his chiseled jawline.

She tried to hold his gaze for as long as possible, to memorize the impassioned look in his eyes, but finally she had to close her eyes as he eased himself inside of her. Her jaw tensed, head twisting away with the wonderful discomfort of his massive size being inside her, inside her more and more, spreading the walls of her sex to make room for all of his eight inches.

“Cliff, that’s wonderful,” she moaned, twisting her hips to help him plunge into her deeper and deeper. “You’re wonderful. And your cock is… oh, Cliff… your cock is… perfect…”

Cliff felt the liquid heat of her flesh, both soft and tight, sucking at his length as he edged into her. He rocked gently back and forth, savoring the shivers sent up his spine by her pressure, the warm caress of the feeling inside her. He could sense her own pleasure as it came off his member, radiating into her folds like the light of a candle in a dark room.

Her channel expanded slowly, letting him slip more easily into her the next time he pulled out. Cliff rocked faster and faster between her open legs, clutching her gloriously rounded ass in his strong hands, pulling her to him as he pistoned down into her, treating her like the Venus she was with all of his manhood.

Jenny still knew what her husband liked. She thrashed her hips up to his, going with his dragging hands as he drove into her. Her motions gulped his staff into her body, made it fill her and touch her at new, exciting angles as she undulated up to him.

It did more than give Cliff pleasure. It filled him with passion for her, until he had to kiss her, his lips locked to hers, his tongue with hers as his fingers sank into her buttocks. She could not be held more tightly as his entire body bucked and heaved against her, like Cliff wanted to squeeze their flesh together for all time.

Her sea-green eyes rolled back into her head, showing Cliff a submissive white as she whimpered and clutched her fingers at his neck, in his hair, as though to beg for mercy. Cliff kissed her cheek, tongued her ear, still lunging into her. The bedsprings squeaked as the headboard slammed against the wall, the impacts going with explosions of Jenny’s sweat-wet hair, flying around to mat against her neck and face and large, bare breasts.

Jenny was coming for him, he could feel it—a new tightness, an exquisite stranglehold on his manhood, as though she didn’t want to give him up any more than he wanted to leave her sex. But another feeling—sharp, burning, thrilling—burned through him. His cum verged on the edge of release, demanding his fall from the edge of the cliff. He tried not to listen to it, but Jenny he couldn’t ignore.

“Take… take me, hard… oh… hard… ggnh… d-deep…” Jenny moaned the words softly as his body battered hers. He felt her legs drawing closed around his waist, trying to hold him inside her, while her hands squeezed his broad shoulders like she was trying to brace herself for the firestorm she knew was coming.

He madly drove himself into her, not stopping, not even thinking of stopping until he felt the burning jolt of his cum splashing into Jenny, filling her. She cried out, the sensation just as intense on her end. Her legs stiffened, her luscious lips sliding over his cheek, her tongue even licking at his sweaty brow while she bucked and sobbed and writhed with her end of their release.

Cliff felt Jenny collapse, like the only life in her was how her pussy spasmed around his manhood. Again and again her folds quickened around him, draining his phallus of everything he had left. Cliff sagged himself, limply rolling onto his side with his head against hers. They breathed slowly, their hands stirring the sweat on each other’s skin, their eyes closed as they rode over the glowing aftermath of their reunion.

“I love you,” Jenny breathed, marshalling her strength to reach up and brush Cliff’s hair from his face. She wanted to see his every feature, every little inch of him, especially when he looked so peaceful and content. And satisfied. And exhausted. After worrying about him for so long, seeing him like this was a weight taken directly off her soul.

“I’m too tired to love you,” Cliff quipped, rolling his head onto the soft pillow and forcing his eyes open to stare appreciatively at his wife and her happiness. “But I’ll give it a shot anyway.”

It was a joke, but Cliff might well have sold his soul for the strength to grab hold of Jenny again and have another round with her.

Jenny rubbed her legs together, her velvet smooth thighs winking over and uncovering her dark hair. Giggling animatedly at his interest, she pulled the diaphanous bedsheet over her, leaving her rosette nipples poking through the sheer material like ice inside a sniffer of vodka.

“It worked,” Cliff said. “I absolutely love you.”

Jenny puckered her lips and blew him a kiss, her eyes glimmering in the subdued light, the color of the sea far from shore—the Atlantic as Cliff’s convoy had crossed it, taking him so far away from her it’d been hard to believe he would ever return. Impossible, sometimes.

“What was it like, Cliff? You never wrote about it in your letters. You always wanted to talk about old times or what we’d do when you got back or how Peeve was doing…”

Cliff looked at her. He could see she was as tired as he was, exhausted by the venting of all their hope and worry and anticipation, but whereas he was ready to clock out, Jenny looked like she could still put on a fresh pot and listen to his problems until dawn.

He had married her on impulse. He had his draft notice. They’d been together what seemed like always—done everything but made it official. It’d seemed like they could go on forever, necking, laughing, loving, speaking in a secret language not far removed from that of childhood. Then it’d had to end, and he didn’t want it to end with him as her boyfriend and her as his girlfriend. That seemed juvenile for a man at arms. He’d wanted a wife, someone to come home to, someone to stay alive for.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Jenny added, with that strong, quivering, torch song voice that could break a man’s heart in half. And she’d had half of his for a long time.

“There isn’t much to talk about. It was cold, it was boring, it was terrifying, and it took way too long.” Cliff wished for a drink. Or a cigarette. Neither of them was a habit he’d had when he’d left and he didn’t want to know what Jenny would make of them before he knew what she would make of him.

“I was afraid for you.”

“I know. I was scared too. I still am.”

“That they’ll win?”

“That I have to go back.”

Jenny buried her face in his shoulder. She wouldn’t cry, not around him, but it’d take her being as brave as he’d ever been. After all, he’d never had to worry about Jenny’s safety. The worst that could happen to her was her photograph burning if he went up in flames.

“It won’t be so bad,” Cliff assured her. “I’ve done my fifty missions. All they’ll have me do now is train sprogs and sell war bonds.”

Jenny peeked up from behind his shoulder. “Have you thought of what you’re going to do after?”

Her brave face made him smile. “This. Bum around for as long as I can manage. I’ve got enough money socked away for a long vacation. Then—I don’t know. They’ll still need pilots after all this is over. Ones who can take the boredom of not being shot at.”

He closed his eyes and rubbed his hand down the silky flesh of her back. It was good being home. Safe. Maybe the nightmares would stop here, he’d be free of the awakenings like electric chair executions and the drenching sweat that had chased him all the way here from Europe. Already, it was a lot easier to think of Jenny when she was so close, so loving, so beautiful…

“You and boredom,” she mused. “It’s hard to see you two making good bedfellows.”

“You’re the only bedfellow for me,” Cliff said.

He took Jenny’s right hand, squeezed it and felt her squeeze it back, then drew it down to his crotch, wrapping her fingers around his throbbing cock. Feeling how he was stiffening, Jenny immediately gripped it, starting to rub in disbelief at how hard he was already and how quickly he was lengthening, thickening, as if he hadn’t come just a few minutes ago, though she could feel his still-warm cum on her palm. Her surprise quickly turned into delight with just how much he wanted her. She had known he wouldn’t be unfaithful, but as far as she was concerned, his readiness proved that she was and would always be the only girl for him.

“For God’s sake, Cliff, you get so big,” she cooed, massaging his ego to pay him back for being such a good husband. “I don’t know if I can take it a second time.”

Not that she was lying, but there were definite times when Cliff Secord didn’t need to know what a good cocksman he was.

“Don’t worry,” Cliff chuckled, his hands finding her ample breasts, fingers pulling at the hard candy nipples. “Last time I checked, you were wet enough for it.”

“I’m sopping, but who knows if that’ll be enough?” Jenny demurred playfully.

“There’s one way to be sure,” Cliff said, and rolled onto his back, his erection slipping out of Jenny’s grip. Now it was massive, a throbbing pillar standing up from her groin.

Jenny grinned with a bashful flush on her face. They were going to do it the old-fashioned way, like when she was a bride all in white… straddling him and lowering herself down on it, his hands on her waist not to pull her down, but to make sure she didn’t take too much, too quickly.

Now, though, his hands did pull, and he slipped easily inside her. If she’d become anywhere near as tight as she’d been on their wedding night, their still-warm fuck had left her loose and wonderfully receptive.

Now Cliff’s hands moved to her luscious breasts, using them as handhold to show Jenny everything she’d forgotten about how to move up and down on his cock. Though it taxed all his restraint, he taught her how to rear up like a rider in the saddle, pulling off of him until only his helmet was still inside of her. She needed no instruction then, only a firm pat on her sumptuous ass and she came ramming down, filling herself with him, gorging herself on his cock. That had always been the part she liked best. It had only took a few gallops back on their wedding night for her to become an old hand at that maneuver.

“How does it feel in there?” Cliff asked with a grin, his shaft grinding through her splayed labia and against her burgeoning clit. “I remember you being a big fan…”

“I love it!” Jenny moaned, too overwhelmed for witty banter.

“We can do it right up until I ship off again.”

“Yes!”

“I’m not letting go of this juicy cunt until we set sail!”

Jenny let her eyes glaze over, her only thought the working of her hips, trusting in Cliff’s firm grip to guide her and take care of his own pleasure. She knew he would reach his climax. He loved her, desired her too much not to, even if she were selfish and focused only on enjoying this hard ride herself. As soon as she went into her frenzied orgasm, he would have to join her. His manhood wouldn’t be able to resist the body he’d longed for since the very second he’d left it behind.

Her prediction came true. In the same moment she achieved climax, she also received his cum. And even in the midst of her ecstasy, she swooned at the knowledge that he was there with her, her husband, her Cliff, back from the war and hers, all hers…