"The Captain has turned off the fasten seat belt signs. Once again, thank you for traveling with us on American Airlines. Enjoy your day and welcome home."
The men around her thumped their legs and jittered with both excited and anxious energy. None of them could wait to set foot on native soil. One by one, a single uniform rows stood in unison. The last person out of the row would hand down the identical bags to their owners from the overhead compartments-the only thing distinguishing each camouflage bag was a name sown in black thread. Boots lightly hit the floor, as if they didn't want to make a sound as they left. Some were leaving for the last time and some for the first. Finally, his row stood. Moore was out first; Watson passed his bag to Fisher, and then Fisher to his hands. Walking down the aisle, empty chairs were on either side of him while men in uniforms sat patiently behind him. At the end of the longest aisle he'd ever walked, the captain stood with a proud air in his chest.
The Captain shook his hand firmly and smiled, "Thank you for your service."
"Thank you for bringing us home." Moore smiled back at the Captain.
Moore's followed his comrades up the jetway. The excited squeals of women and children could heard as their fathers, brothers, mothers, and sisters came home. He wanted to run to his wife and take her in his arms and never let her go. He could see a small bit of what was in front of them; people crowded around with signs and anxious looks on their faces, some of them bounced in place while others chatted excitedly on cell phones. Taking one step into the terminal, applause filled the room. A banner "Welcome Home Troop 865" was strung from two tall pillars.
Having dreamt of this moment, he searched the crowd for her. Moore and his wife, Carmen, had agreed to meet by the coffee shop just past the terminal. Pushing through the crowd of people thanking him for his service, he couldn't stop thinking about Carmen. She had blonde hair with harsh gray eyes that softened only for him. He longed to touch her gentle lips that always felt so delicate against him. She liked acrilic nails that left deep wells in his back. He would love nothing more than to taste her skin...make her quiver in his arms...bite at her neck as she moaned and ground her sex into his. Thinking about her like that made his bulge harden in his uniform.
Finding himself before the coffee shop, his heart began to drop; there was no sight of her. There were plenty of pretty women near the terminal that fit her general description, but they weren't Carmen. Moore took off his pack and sat down at a table, searching for her through the crowd. A woman with long brunette hair in ripped jeans and a sweatshirt ran in his direction. Her starting gray eyes were the only thing he recognized on her body; realizing it was Carmen, he stood and squeezed her in a tight embrace. Her arms latched onto his body her already wet eyes burrowed into his shoulder. After holding each other for a long moment, his arms slipped around her waist. She ran her long fingers through his hair and pulled him closer as she kissed her man who had been serving their country for eighteen long months. His hard member twitched as he let his hands slide up from the smile of her back, underneath her sweatshirt and rubbed up her warm back.
He whispered, leaning his forehead on hers, "You are so beautiful, so, so beautiful."
"I've missed you so much." Tears kept swelling up in her eyes and she hugged him tight, "Don't let me go."
