Sarge

I pulled out the drawer of his nightstand, assuming I’d find what I did there—lube and condoms.

He took me hard on the bed, harder even than that one night we had together. But, as requested, he romanced me to begin with, made sensual love to my body to where I was beside myself in wanting him inside me and begged him for the fuck. And then the headboard did a mean ratatatat against the wall as he fucked me doggy style again, crouching over my buttocks and holding me at the waist, using the leverage of his feet on the bed and the power shift of his pelvis to thrust hard and deep again and again and again and . . .

Begging no mercy; receiving no mercy. Both of us lost in want of each other. Him not being able to meld enough with me; me not being able to get him deep enough, thick enough, punishing enough inside me.

As the military recruitment commercials said: Nobody can do it like a Marine can do it.