When rehearsal was over, the soldiers stood on the tables and chairs and clapped, stomped their feet, whistled and yelled as they had the night before. Even though dinner was still a few hours away, I couldn’t wait until six to hold Tommy again. I just couldn’t. So after the USO members had left the stage, I slipped away from the crowd and hurried across the camp to his tent.
I saw him through the small plastic window, getting dressed. His flashy pants were around his ankles and I stopped and held my breath as he kicked them off, watching as he bent to step into a pair of gray sweat pants. His briefs stretched across his smooth ass and I remembered the feel of him in my hands, in my mouth. When he stood, I could see the bulge at the front of his underwear, which he tucked quickly into the pants, though they did little to hide it. As he started to pull on a white T-shirt, I knocked on the door to his tent. “It’s open,” he called out.