Gone was the rock guitarist, here he was as a serious classical musician, playing trumpet with a world class orchestra, and could the man wear a tux! ...They began to spend time as a couple. He was studying music at the conservatory and funding his education by clubbing with guitar. He played frequently with the symphony as a sub and on a per diem basis when they needed extra brass players. She was studying to be a teacher at the University. They both began studying each other more than school,. I found out that she was married and had 3 c***dren. Her husband was an African American truck driver and was gone for long periods on the road. She sent pictures of her family and told me everything about herself as I did about mine. After I graduated from Basic training and my specific job training, I was assigned to Stewart Georgia. It was a stroke of luck that Monica and her client lived in Savannah Georgia which was just an hour away. After I settled into my unit, one of the 1st. "Do they seem louder to you Jenny?... the waves."She paused, concentrating on the sound. "It might be foggy out there, It always sounds louder to me when it's foggy. You want to look?"Her hand tugged mine until both of us were running over to the window like a pair of Christmas children waiting for Santa Claus to come. The view from my window was nothing more than the blurry light from our walkway lamp. A thick blanket of fog had covered our little world reminding me of a snowstorm as I watched. I want-" he jerks his hand hard into me. "You-" harder, "to-" deeper. "Come." My pussy spasms around his skilled fingers. Heat flushes my body and a starry haze clouds my vision as my tension explodes. His hand still moves against me, milking my orgasm until I'm completely jello. A slurping noise escapes as he pulls his hand away from my pussy. He pulls me up from his lap, only pausing long enough to kiss me deeply. Half aware of reality, I taste his mouth. Sweet like coffee. His tongue.