Free Fight for Love by David Manoa

William
    “Baby, I’m coming home…” Clutching the faded
photo of my beautiful Claudia, I was done fighting the forgotten
war. I sat back strapping myself in with the metal clasps. The
photo close to chest. I closed my eyes to think of her. The sound
of the four turboprop engines whirring and reverberating through my body put me at
ease. I looked out window to see the Red deserts of Afghanistan for
the last time. Waving goodbye to the blood-drenched dunes and swirling sun blast sand.
    I’m coming home to get married.
    I hope you say yes.
    I love you.
    I couldn’t help crack a smile with my head
raised to the roof in relief . The tension trickling down to the
lower half of my body. I ached inside thinking of her, being away
for so long. Everything so pent up. Nine months without her touch
and her caressing kisses. I couldn’t wait. I wanted her so badly .
    I imagined coming out, of the C-130 Hercules
walking down the tail ramp out into the tarmac to see Claudia waiting for me. The
Desert petrol vehicles driving out behind me their torrent of dust
forming from the fine layer they were coated in. The families all
waiting and the soldiers disperse to meet their loved ones. I
pictured Claudia wearing her favorite white tunic with her the nice
V in the middle. The floral embossed, lace sleeves with the tunic
coming down to the middle of her smooth, supple thighs.
    Her sun kissed dusty blonde hair, would be
shimmering in the light the wind blowing away some of the tendrils
of her hair. But her perfume penetrating through would alert me to
her presence. She would tiptoe like a ballerina with her cute flat
soled shoes, looking for me. Jumping a few times to see over the
crowd. I would spot glimpses of her, but I would wait till everyone
parted like the red sea. I straightened my uniform, adjusting the
sand color beret on my head, I would walk through the middle.
Everyone becoming a blur the sound nulled out like the engines on
this plane.
    And there she is running to me as I walked up
to her. She still looks as youthful and stunning the first day I
met her. I would drop my bag and sweep her from under her feet and
kiss her like there’s no tomorrow. That first kiss would be a
combination of breathing her in as our tongues met. Her scent, my
god her scent. The fierce need from mine to press against hers, her
hands cupped on the sides of my face. She whispers “I missed you…”
then she leans in to kiss again.
    I pick up my bags and carry her to the car,
Claudia is smiling when she sees that look in my eye. A hungry bear
that can’t wait to dip her in honey so I can devour her. I kiss her
again, then again…
    Tasting the sweet. She moans… I groan….
    I lick my lips, I kiss again… again…
again.
    Wake up! Wake up! Wake up corporal!
    I flinch, lunging forward feeling this hand
slap both my cheeks. I sniffle, choke and swallow. Blinking to get
the sleep out of my eyes. I wipe the drawl off the side of my mouth
and chin. I turn to see Private Leroy an African American with a
very vibrant personality and the tightest fade.
    “God damn will! What the hell is wrong wit ya
dogg!”
    “What the fuck?”
    “You damn near having a wet dream. Any longer
you would have been jerking your dick off in front of us.”
    I smoothed my calloused hands over my face.
Peering down to the cold steel floor, I refocused my vision on my
boots. i wiped away the film of red dust The disorientation soon seeped away when I
looked up at my unit laughing at me.
    Assholes…
    There were four of us, to my right on the
opposite me was Natalya Volodin the first woman SAS soldier to be
enlisted. She sat with her masculine pose legs wide open her body
hunched forward right hand holding her chin. She had this off look
to her, lily white skin . Deep dead brown eyes and light freckles on her
face she had the highest confirmed kill count out of all us.
    A child soldier who fought as 11-year-old
child in the Chechnya war before she escaped with her mother to