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July 4th dawned bright and balmy, spilling sunshine across your half-empty bed. Usually, you’d be excited for the day, bounding out of bed to make blueberry pancakes before a day of festivities, but today you tucked yourself further into the covers and tried not to cry.
Without the eager energy of your husband, nothing felt right. Jack had been gone on a mission since April; the longest you’d been apart since you’d been together. As always, you didn’t know the specifics, only that he was going undercover and couldn’t contact you until the case was done. He’d thought it might take a month when he’d made love to you the night before he left.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can baby girl,” he’d whispered in dark, holding you to his chest and you both came down from your high.
“Just come back to me Jack,” you answered, voicing your perpetual worry. You knew that Jack was careful, and he was very very good at what he did, but being an agent for an undercover intelligence agency was hardly a safe living.
“Always my love,” he promised, pressing his lips to your forehead as you both drifted off to sleep.
That was three months ago. Three months of dreading unidentified phone calls-worried that it was someone from Statesman calling to tell you he wouldn’t be coming home. Three months of falling asleep alone in a cold bed, and waking up to an empty pillow beside you.
No wonder you didn’t feel like celebrating as you normally did.
Morning trickled into afternoon before you decided to get up. You pulled on Jack’s favorite sundress-a pale blue with tiny white and yellow flowers-and your plain white tennis shoes and twisted your hair into a braid down across one shoulder. You may not want to celebrate, but you needed to do something.
The picnic basket the pair of you used caught your eye-an evening picnic up on “kissing hill” might cheer you up. What had once been the makeout spot for local teens, overlooking main street, was now part of Jack’s property and would have a nice view of the town fireworks. You packed a few sandwiches, some of Jack’s favorite cookies, and a bottle of wine and head out, breathing in the heavy fragrance of honeysuckle and jasmine floating on the breeze.
Your usual spot at the top of the hill was open, the grass soft and shaded by two massive oak trees, and you spread the old quilt you’d brought across the space. A nice breeze rustled the trees as the sun fell behind the trees and you laid back on your arms, closing your eyes and dreaming.
“I can’t imagine a prettier picture,” a familiar twang murmured behind you and a weight lowered onto the quilt beside you.
Your eyes flew open, greeted by the familiar home of the deep brown eyes of your husband. “JACK!” you cry, flinging your arms around his neck and pulling him to you. He chuckled but wrapped his strong arms around your waist. “God Jack, I was so worried. Every time the phone rang I thought it would be Champ or Tequila telling me you were hurt or worse and-”
“Shhhh darlin,” Jack soothed, stroking your hair and kissing your cheeks, “I know. It was a harder recon than we thought and we almost got made a few times. But I’m home. And Champ promised I’d be home for a while.”
“You’ll have to tell him thank you for me,” you say, tucking your head into his shoulder and breathing deep the smell of him- his trademark whiskey, leather, and hay.
“I was hoping I’d find you up here darlin.’ I was afraid you mighta forgotten my promise to you.”
“Your promise to come home?”
“No baby, I mean yes,” he chuckled, nuzzling your neck, “ but I was thinking about my promise to show you fireworks on this hill, and I always keep my promises.”
“I think they start after dark.”
“Those ain’t the fireworks I was talkin’ about sugar,” Jack murmured, his big hands moving, one to lower you to the quilt and the other to caress your face. His lips met yours and your world exploded. Every moment he’d been gone, every night you’d missed him in your bed disappeared as you tangled together. One hand found your breasts, stroking the soft flesh exposed at your sundress’ neckline, the other tugged up your skirt, calloused fingers meeting the lace of your underwear with a groan.
“Jackkk,” you moaned out as his fingertips brushed your core, arousal pulsing through your veins.
“Darlin’, you’re already so wet for me,” Jack praised, his lips making their way down your throat to the swell of your cleavage.
Your head fell back as he slipped a finger inside of you, “Missed you Jack,” you managed, hands tangled in his dark curls. “Missed you so much.”
He slipped a second finger inside, curling the rough digits against your walls, “I’m here now sweetheart.”
“Oh fuck me Jack,” you cried out, and he groaned. You could feel his hard length pressing against your thigh and all you can think about is having him back inside of you.
“I will, baby girl, I will. But I want you to come for me first,” his fingers scissored inside you and his thumb brushed against your clit, shocks shooting to every pore.
“God Jack, yes. Please.” You are hips bucked up against him, and his free hand came down to hold your thighs. His mouth worked over your stiffened nipples, through the thin cotton of your sundress, and you feel the edge approaching. “Yes please, Jack, oh god yes.”
You came with a scream, fingernails digging into the fabric of his button-down and he stroked you through the shudders that consumed you. He whispered praise into your ear and held you tight as you came down, “My good girl, my best girl.”
“Need you Jack,” you managed, reaching for his flask belt buckle. “Need you inside me now.” He laughed, your favorite sound in the world, and helped you remove his shirt.
“Well who am I to refuse a beautiful woman,” he drawled, kissing his way up your leg. “But I’m not quite sure you’re ready for that.”
“Jack, don’t tease me” you whined, reaching for him, fingers stroking his cock through his boxers. “I just want-” he cut you off when his tongue licked a wide stripe up your folds and you moaned against him.
“Sweet as strawberry wine sugar,” he groaned from between your thighs, before he dove back in, his tongue diving into your cunt and his mustache brushing the tender skin, eliciting squeals from you. “Need you to cum for me again darlin’.”
“Oh Jack, yes, YES,” you cried as he worked you through another orgasm, his palms tight around your ass, holding your cunt close to his face. You moaned and felt a rush of wetness drench your thighs. Jack chuckled, soaked face emerging from your pussy, kissing you wildly, the taste of you on his tongue.
“Never made you squirt before sugar,” Jack said with pride, licking your juices from his mustache. “I guess that was good.” He laid beside you as you panted, holding your hand to his chest.
“Yes,” you breathed, “yes Jack, but-”
“I know darlin’. I need you too. Jack won’t make you wait anymore. You gonna take a ride on your old husband?” You grinned at him and moved to straddle his thighs, tugging down his boxers and letting his cock spring free.
Slowly, you moved above him, letting the pre-cum soaked tip of his cock brush your wet pussy and making him groan. “You gonna tease me now, sugar?”
“I should,” you replied breathily, “Leaving me alone for three whole months.” You dropped a little, letting his cock slip inside a tiny bit. “My fingers aren’t the same as you, Jack.” He twitched, trying to thrust upward but held in place by your legs.
“Baby girl, you know I missed you too. I may have good hands, but they ain’t this pussy. And they don’t kiss me good morning.” You smiled and lowered yourself down completely, groaning at the fullness of your husband’s cock. “Damn, I’ll never get over how good you feel darlin’.”
He gripped your hips tightly as you started to ride him, swirling your hips as you moved up and down his length. The setting sun made Jack’s golden skin glow beneath you, illuminating the face you love so much. “I love you, Jack,” you stammered as you moved faster.
“I love you too darlin’,” Jack moaned out, the pace of his thrusts getting wilder into you. “I’m not gonna last long sugar-it’s been too damn long since I’ve been inside you.”
“Cum for me Jack. Fill me up.”
Your words triggered something in him and he pulled himself up, clutching you to his chest. He roared as he flooded you with his spend, the warmth spreading through you, and you both jumped slightly as the first resounding boom of fireworks echoed around you. Jack chuckled against your shoulder as he held onto you, coming down from his high.
“I did promise you fireworks, didn’t I sugar?”
“And you always keep your promises, Jack Daniels,” you whispered.