Lucy and I continued to make love, my hands on her hips as I gently rocked back and forth. Our awareness of each other, and our focus on each other, was so great that I*knew* – without her telling me – when she wanted me to move my hands up to hold her breasts, and what she wanted me to do with them. Both of us were aware of how far along the other was toward release, and without comment and by mutual agreement, we 'adjusted' ourselves so that we would get there together.
A while later, both of us were ready, and by unspoken agreement, let it happen.
Even as I felt Lucy's vagina tighten around me, I pressed myself deeply into her, and felt the first shot of my semen moving through my penis to wash her insides with my male essence. It seemed as though I could feel each and every one of her internal muscles, individually, as they spasmed around me; and it felt as though I could feel each and every one of my sperm cells as it made it's journey from my balls to her cervix. My climax wasn't a particularly 'powerful' one, but it was incredibly deep and satisfying. Even as we were gasping out our release, Lucy's eyes and mine remained open and locked on each other.
We continued to lay there, with me deep inside her, for a couple of minutes after our climaxes were over – both of us content with what we'd just done, and reluctant to lose the link we'd formed. Then, silently, we agreed that we had to let it go; and let the bond between us dissolve. That done, we realized we were both exhausted, and I carefully eased myself out of her, then moved to lay next to her as we held hands and looked at each other, smiling.
I'm not quite sure when I drifted off, but I woke up some time later to see that Lucy was sound asleep next to me, a smile on her face. Looking around, I couldn't see Robyn or Sandra. Starting to get worried, I carefully eased myself away from Lucy, and got up. I moved to the door between Lucy's room and mine, and when I got close, could hear the faint sounds of the television on the other side. I knocked softly, then opened the door to see that Robyn and Sandra had established themselves on my bed, and were watching TV with the sound down as they cuddled.
When they saw me, they started to speak, but I held a finger to my lips as I moved closer to them. When I finally sat on the bed, both of them moved to sit next to me, telling me that Lucy and I had fallen asleep pretty much at the same time – and they giggled when they said that both of us had enormous smiles when we did. They went on to tell me that they didn't have the heart to disturb us, but didn't want us to wake up "all sticky and stuff" (as Sandra put it), so they'd carefully cleaned us up before deciding to use my room to watch TV. I looked at the time, and saw that it was getting a bit late, so I told them they could stay up another half hour, but then they were to go to sleep. Both agreed easily enough, and I told them they could go ahead and sleep in my bed, if they wanted, or they could join Lucy and me if they would be careful not to wake her. They thought it over, and decided to stay in my bed so – as Robyn put it – "You and Mom can have some private time, too".
That settled, I gave each of them a hug and kiss, then headed back for Lucy's room, closing the door behind me. After a detour to the bathroom, I headed back to the bed, where I found Lucy half awake, and looking up at me with another smile on her face. She stretched, then rolled over to her side and indicated she wanted me to lie on my back next to her. When I was in position, she rolled over against me, and put her hand and arm on my chest as she rested her head on my shoulder.
"That was really. something", she said as she started to play with some of my chest hairs.
"Yup. It was definitely*something*. I'm not too sure what, but it was definitely something", I responded.
"I've never had anything like that happen to me before. Have you?"
"Not while making love. Something like that happens sometimes in combat, though – you'll get into a firefight, and it seems like you know exactly what to do, and when; like you already know it's going to turn out good, and you're just making sure it happens."
She shivered slightly, and asked "You've been in actual war, then?"
"Not WAR war, but yeah, I've been in combat."
"Was it bad?"
"Fighting like that is never 'good'. Sometimes, though, you've got to do it, just to keep the assholes from taking over."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean people like Hitler, and Soviet Russia, and drug dealers, and people like that. There are*things* in the world that aren't human. I mean, they look like people, and talk like people, and all that, but there's just nothing inside them to make them human. The only thing they know is what they want, and they'll do anything to anybody to get it."
"Is that why you went in the Army?"
"Part of it, yeah. Silly as it might sound, I actually love this country, and I wanted to do my part toward keeping it going. That, and for as long as I can remember, I thought that soldiering was an honorable profession."
"That doesn't sound silly, loving your country. Sometimes, I wish more people would think about it, and love it, too. What do you mean that soldiering is an honorable profession?"
"Just what I said. When you listen to a lot of people, they talk like a G.I. with a rifle is about the dumbest thing on earth – but if you think about it a minute, you'll realize that the LAST thing you want is a dummy with a gun. You want the smartest, best-equipped, best-trained people you can lay your hands on because you can't be out there to supervise each and every one of them. You HAVE to trust them to know what their job is, and how to do it. Sure, there are going to be some idiots, and some power-crazy nutcases that turn up; but for the most part, the people on the pointy end of the stick are the ones you need and want there: smart enough to know what's going on, and trained well enough to make it happen. Same thing with cops – you hear about the bad ones, but never about the good ones. The bad ones are the ones that make the news, but it's the good ones that you never hear about keep the bad guys mostly under control. They just show up for work, keep the crooks away, and go home at the end of the day – nobody ever notices them, until they need their help."
"That's why the FBI people are watching us, isn't it?"
"Pretty much. They're trained in a different way than street cops, and they go after a different class of criminal, but yeah, that's why."
"They're not going to let anyone hurt us, are they?", she said, making it a statement.
"Not if they can possibly prevent it. Sometimes, stuff happens that you can't control; in that case, that's why they're having me wear the vest, and asked me to carry a gun again. But every one of them is ready to get between you or the girls, and a bullet, to make sure you stay alive and healthy."
She lay there thinking for a while before asking me "You're better at this than they are, aren't you?"
"Not better. Just trained for what they aren't, and a little more experienced about some stuff. Kind of like the difference between you, and your accountants."
"I think it's a little more than that, but okay", she grumbled into my neck, before asking "How long is this going to go on?"
"Honestly, I don't know. Off and on, as the trial happens, probably a few months; us having to worry about bad guys, probably not long at all."
"'Us' worrying about bad guys? I didn't think you were worried about any of it."
"I'm not*worried* – I've got a pretty good idea how good the FBI people are. I know what I can do, and will do, if it comes down to it. So I'm taking it serious, and I'm concerned; but not*worried*, okay?"
"I wonder what the girls think about this. I mean, what they*really* think about it."