Coming Home for Christmas

By Lexy Harper

Is she woman enough for two returning soldiers?

Abigail Foster is thrilled that her husband David is returning home for the holidays. He’s been recently injured in the line of duty in Afghanistan and although he says he’s fine, she needs to see him to reassure herself that he didn’t sustain any lasting injuries.

Anticipating days and nights of bliss, she’s shocked when he turns up with Corporal Lawrence Pickering in tow. The man may have saved David’s life, but she has not seen her husband in months! How can they enjoy the perfect homecoming she’s planned when the other man is in the bedroom next door and the walls of their home are as thin as paper?

And why is Mr Pickering so tall...so strong...and so good looking?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lexy Harper
• Release date: May 27, 2018

Lexy Harper

Lexy Harper's books have ranked at the top of the Bestselling Erotica charts and are written in British English. She wrote her first erotic short story in 2005 as an outlet for her filthy imagination and within months had completed the 22 stories which make up her Bedtime Erotica collections. Written specifically for lovers of explicit erotica, these stories are hardcore, plot driven and often humorous. For the less sexually adventurous, she reveals her tender side in her romance novels which can be identified by the gold stripe on the left. Erotica books have a black stripe and transgender a cerise.Sign up for Lexy's newsletter: http://eepurl.com/Lf3vbVisit her website: https://lexyharper.com/Follow her on Twitter: @Lexy_HarperJoin her on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lexy.harperCheck out her FB Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/LexyHarperAuthor

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COMING HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

Lexy Harper

Copyright 2006 by Lexy Harper

Smashwords Edition

Lexy Harper

COMING HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher or author, except for brief quotes used in reviews.

This book contains mature content. Please do not continue reading if you are under the age of 18

All characters are 18 years or older, non-blood related and all sexual acts are consensual.

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Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

Author’s Note

Other titles by Lexy Harper

Chapter One

I stood in front of the mirror and assessed my body critically. I hadn’t regained the weight I’d lost since I’d received news that my husband David had been injured in action in Afghanistan, but I still had the rounded figure he’s always said he loved.

My big, round breasts were still firm enough for me to go braless. My nipples poked through the soft material of the black lace robe that covered the matching bodysuit beneath it. Money wasn’t as tight as it used to be, but I still had an eye for a bargain. I’d found the set heavily discounted at Ann Summers two days ago and quickly snapped it up.

My nipples have been prominent since I matured into a young lady, but David’s the reason that they have become embarrassingly visible if I don’t wear a bra. He’s a total and utter breast man. When we’re alone together, his hands are always cupping my breasts through my clothing, tweaking my nipples until they are hard enough for him to strum them with his fingers before he frees one or both, to suck and nibble on.

I love him at my breasts. I feel closer to him, connected to him on a primal level. It arouses me and gets me dripping wet, but it’s so much more than sex. I feel his need for comfort. His need to be loved after a childhood of being barely tolerated by a man who knew that not only had his wife been unfaithful, she had been careless enough to not use protection. Even worse, his father had to live with the embarrassment of having a dark-eyed, dark-haired child when both he and his wife are blue-eyed blonds.

We plan on having children once his stint in the army is over, but I can’t see David giving up my breasts completely to any child. He says he dreams of them often when he’s in Afghanistan and each time we’re in his favourite position—sitting on the bed or a chair with me straddling him, his cock deep inside me, my pussy walls clenching and unclenching in response to his mouth on my nipples.

Just thinking of him masturbating while he thought of me turned me on. I cupped my breasts and squeezed my nipples, feeling so horny I wanted to scream.

David, the sneaky devil, hadn’t told me he was coming home for the Christmas holidays until three days ago. The news had sent me into immediate overdrive. I had cleaned the house from top to bottom, stocked the fridge with all his favourite foods, had my hair relaxed and cut into a new style, waxed my legs and pussy, bought three new sets of lingerie and a dress for New Year’s Eve.

I had tried to keep myself busy, but the hours dragged on and my anxiety grew with each passing minute. I prayed like never before, but I couldn’t shake the fear that he would be killed before I could see him again. Once he got home safely, I wouldn’t have to worry anymore—his stint in the army was over, thank God!

Tears welled up and overflowed my eyes at the thought of him dying. He had come close only two and a half months ago. A piece of shrapnel had torn through his uniform and ripped open a major artery in his left thigh. Not a large wound, he’d told me, but deep enough for him to have bled to death if Lawrence Pickering, the sergeant he’d met and befriended since being stationed in Afghanistan, hadn’t tied off the injury, hoisted him onto his shoulders and run with him all the way back to safety.

It’s only by the grace of God they had made it to the base. He’d said that Lawrence had kept as low as possible, but they’d made a substantial moving target. David’s six-foot tall and broad shouldered. Lawrence must be of a similar build to be able to carry him, although it’s often said that people sometimes find superhuman strength in times of crisis.

The army surgeon had immediately got to work suturing the wound. Later, he’d told David that he would be up and about within days, but Lawrence’s swift action had undoubtedly saved his life.

My beloved David had come close to dying…and at the age of only twenty-two. A shudder ran through me and I hastily shook myself free of the morbid thought.

He’d survived the injury with a little more than a scar, he’d told me. I had a feeling that his idea of ‘a little scar’ was vastly different from mine, but it didn’t matter now. All that mattered was that he was coming home for Christmas and he would be out of the army for good!

I have known him forever. We’d become friends at school because we were the only mixed-race children in our year. The girls in my class hadn’t been unkind to me, but none of them had ever invited me to their homes. It hadn’t help that my mother was black and hadn’t fit in with the other mothers.

The boys had bullied David badly. I couldn’t understand why at first. He looked like them, except for his dark brown eyes. Then one day my mother dropped me off to school and we arrived at the same time his mother was dropping off him and his older brother Winston. I hadn’t thought anything of their different colouring, until his mother drove off and his brother had shoved him away and called him ‘Blackie’. Truthfully, I’d thought he had called him the derogatory term for Pakistani, until I heard him call David the name again when he thought I couldn’t hear him.

Winston, named after his father and Churchill, had been the hottest boy in our school. Athletic and good looking, all the girls had wanted to get with him. He was also the reason the boys picked on David because he let the entire school know that his younger brother was the result of a fling his mother had had in St Lucia when she’d gone on holiday with her girlfriends.

He seemed to hate or envy David and I don’t know why. They both resemble their mother and look almost identical except for their colouring. He’s the one their father’s grooming to take over the family business. He’s the one their father bought the four-bedroom house in Fulham for when he graduated university. He’s their father’s golden boy and yet he never missed an opportunity to put David down…or try to fuck me.

Yesterday, knowing that David was back today, he’d come by to make one last-ditch attempt at getting me to betray his brother. It hadn’t been easy to resist him. He’s a good-looking devil and he knows it. And yesterday he caught me in a vulnerable mood, desperately counting down the hours until David was safe in my arms and needing a shoulder to cry on. He had provided the shoulder and then started kissing my neck at exactly the right spot to send me crazy while he fondled my nipples like a pro.

I’d pulled away eventually and told him to leave, but it had taken willpower.

If he had freed my breasts and started sucking on my nipples, it might have been a different story. With him looking so much like David, he had been ultra hard to resist.

Thank God he didn’t know that they are my weak spots.

I’m not proud of the fact, but I could be led like a lamb to slaughter if a man knew exactly how to suck on my nipples. It was probably David’s fault for keeping me in a constant state of arousal by playing with them whenever he was around.

Even now my nipples ached at the thought of having his lips on them. The black bodysuit unsnapped at the crotch, but he wouldn’t have to bother with that—the cups were cut-outs which left my breasts free. All he needed to do was cover them with his large hands and watch them get bigger and bigger as he tugged on them, sending me out of my mind with delicious anticipation before he covered one with his warm, wet, greedy mouth. By then he would be as desperate as I was and would apply the firm suckling motion we both needed.

My nipples would be sensitive and probably sore tomorrow, but I wouldn’t care. I needed him to suck on them long and hard, as if he was trying to draw milk. I cupped my breasts through the soft material of the robe and tried to soothe them. Like my clit, they were restless for the touch of David’s lips.

Just another half an hour to go, I consoled, plucking my left nipple as I stroked my clit lightly with my free hand. It had tormented me all day, refusing to wait patiently for David’s touch, demanding that I stroke it, stroke it…just so, just so.

I’ve tried to ignore it, keeping myself busy as I made preparation for David’s homecoming, showering, moisturizing my body and changing into the bodysuit and robe, but it refused to be still.

Within minutes the moisture was oozing out of my impatient pussy and drenching the gusset. It would be so easy for me to come. My nether lips were slick and swollen from me squeezing them between my legs numerous times to ease their torment. My vaginal walls were clenching and unclenching, hungry for anything with a little length and girth. One finger, but better two, and I would come in less than a dozen thrusts.

I craved release badly, but I made myself wait—anticipation is such a delicious form of foreplay.

***

At the sound of the gate creaking open, I unlocked the front door and stood just inside it, away from the prying eyes of our neighbours across the street, but in full view of David when he pushed it open.

Welcome home, baby! I opened the robe and struck a sexy pose.

Oh fuck, honey, I missed you!

I laughed as his eyes devoured me for a second before he hugged me and almost squeezed the breath out of my body. His lips covered mine as he leaned over me, pressing my neck backwards as he plundered my mouth.

Then, still wearing his heavy rucksack, he cupped my behind and lifted me up so that my pussy was flush against the bulge of his erection.

Oh, baby. I wrapped my legs around his hips and rubbed myself against him. Ignoring the fact that we were still both dressed—if you considered the virtually transparent outfit I was wearing a form of dress—I started to rotate my hips, ready to ride him to my first orgasm.

Ahem!

The sound was so close at first I thought it had come from David…but his lips were plastered against mine I realized with the tiny part of my brain still functioning when the sound was repeated.

David almost dropped me as he stepped back and apologized, Sorry, sir, I forgot about you for a second.

The man standing behind him was taller than David and much, much broader. How I could have missed him as he’d followed David through the doorway was a mystery. His skin was a smooth, polished brown, several shades darker than mine and David’s. His lips were full and sensuous—the top a perfect Cupid’s bow—and all I could think of was having it wrapped around my clit.

What the hell?

Honey, this is Sergeant Pickering.

Lawrence…Larry, the man corrected.

The hero who had saved David’s life and here I was practically naked and acting like a sex-starved manic right in front of him!

Why the hell hadn’t David called and forewarned me? He must have known that I would welcome him in some special way on his return after being away for several months.

Hi, Lawrence. My face flamed as I held the robe closed with my left hand and held out my right. I’m Abigail. Pleased to meet you.

His large hand engulfed mine.

The pleasure’s all mine.

It wasn’t a double entendre. Though his eyes had swept my body from head to toe in a lightning quick comprehensive sweep, they were now focussed on my face.

David had joined the army in desperation when his father had thrown him out of the house without warning when he was sixteen. This man looked as though he was born to be a soldier. There was something solid and dependable and a little dangerous about him. I wouldn’t want to be on the other side in a war with him.

Thanks for the offer, David, but I don’t think this is such a great idea after all. The man broke eye contact as he turned to my husband, hoisting his rucksack onto his shoulders at the same time. It was only then I realized that he’d taken it off. His next words confirmed the horrible suspicion that was slowly dawning on me. I’m sure I can find a hotel.

David had invited the man to stay with us?

In our two-bedroom house that had walls so thin we often joked we wouldn’t need a baby monitor when the time came as we would hear the baby’s cries through the wall? We hadn’t realized it until David’s penny-pinching uncle had come up to London for a play at Shaftesbury Theatre and had spent