Subjective beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but its objective counterpart also exists. None will argue the flawlessness of a warm Summer breeze caressing a perfect rose, the fiery sunset of a tranquil evening shot through with violet and indigo, or a beautiful person. Human beauty, of infinite form and appearance, enraptures the eyes and moves the heart. Finely sculpted and well-proportioned features, all symmetry and grace, abound and are vast and varied, but are always alluring. It is beauty that we crave, in our lives, before our eyes, in others, and ourselves.

There is also sexiness, the physical cousin of visual perfection. Enslaving the mind and arousing the loins, being sexy is more attitude, poise, and confidence. One can be beautiful but not sexy, or sexy but not considered beautiful. Finding beauty in sex, therefore embracing rather than hiding it, is a factor, but not the only one. Some people are just sensual, and their aura radiates a lusty passion that is infectious.

Objectively, I’m a bit of both. While I wouldn’t call myself beautiful, I am pretty, but I am definitely sexy to others. My Bohemian, pagan, gypsy vibe, a free spirit that refuses to be tamed, seems to hint at an unbridled passion and a lusty wildness that makes it obvious that I’m both horny and crazy in bed—the lusty and endearing sort of insanity, not the “afraid to go to sleep” type. However, the woman standing in the doorway was doubly blessed with stunning, exotic beauty and wild, sensual sexiness.

Her name was Christina, Chris, and she was a friend of my husband’s. He’d mentioned her, before, proudly saying that she was serving our country in the Air Force. Her tour, overseas, had been completed, and she was taking a few months away from military life to ponder whether to reenlist. She wanted to drop by to visit my husband and meet me, but she got into town two days early; my husband was working out of state, which meant that our meet and greet would be just us women. I’d silently wondered if they’d had sex, but didn’t press the issue.

When I opened the door to greet her, I was mesmerized. Chris was slightly taller than me, fit and athletic, and looking jaw-dropping beautiful in her camouflage fatigues. The military clothing couldn’t hide her firm, round breasts, “US Air Force” and her last name, “Johnson,” stitched into olive patches over either tit. Her long, black hair, shiny and straight, hung loose behind her, and her very feminine curves, enticed with swelling hips, a straight, confident posture, and fine legs encased in slightly loose pants that were immaculately bloused into shiny boots.

While her projected strength, confidence, poise, and healthy vigor were all beautiful and sexy, especially in uniform, her exotic looks were both divine and pussy-drenching. My second thought was, of course. he fucked her, because my first thought was, I so want to lick her pussy. Not only was she one of the most hypnotically enthralling women I’ve ever seen, but she also looked like she was on the verge of an intense orgasm and looking to fuck and suck everyone in sight to satiate her eternal lust.

Her eyes were a deep brown and almond-shaped, signifying an obvious Asian descent. Creamy, flawless skin, a light mocha color, wrapped her lust-inducing features and showed pouting lips that made me wet. Muscular and tawny, her casual movements were graceful, and those deep brown eyes lit up when she saw me, those kissable lips erupting into a bright, sincere smile that showed pristine-white, perfect teeth.

She dropped her duffle bag and spoke, her voice sexual honey with only a hint of a southern accent. “You just have to be Krystal. I should have known that you’d be a sexy redhead.” She paused. “I’m Chris, Airperson First Class, Christine Johnson.”

Without warning or ceremony, she quickly closed the few feet between us and embraced me in a strong hug. I hugged her back, trying to forget the heat her firm, muscular body ignited in my flesh, reminding myself that I’m to play welcoming hostess, not a seductress. I didn’t even know if she was into women, or if we’d get along.

“He, uh, he didn’t tell me that you were…”

“A Japanegro?” she laughed. Her lilting giggle made my nipples poke out and caused all sorts of soldier-sex fantasies to run roughshod through my dirty mind. “I’m half black and half Japanese,” she clarified. “Blackanese? Sorry,” she pouted, “you're supposed to laugh.”

“No, not that…which he didn’t, of course. It’s just that he never once mentioned how gorgeous you are, so perfect and exotic.” I realized that my mouth was hanging open, and I was staring. “Forgive me, how rude. Please come in and make yourself at home. My husband will be back tomorrow or the next day. Until then, it’s just us girls.”

After four years overseas, remote piloting unmanned aircraft, Chris was ready to let loose. We got along well, and the sexual tension, although maybe one-sided, was palpable.

“So, what would you like to do?” I asked.

“First, I want a long, hot bath, as soon as possible. Then, I want to grab some ‘civvies’ and dress like a woman instead of a soldier,” I didn’t mention that her uniform was so sexy on her that I was dripping horny, “and go out, get fucked up, and hopefully get laid.”

“I figured that everyone would go nuts over you in uniform.” I omitted to mention the effect she was having on me. “Let’s draw you a bath, right now. Wine?”

A few hours later, the statuesque Christine was decked out in one of my dresses. It was a lavender, gauzy, gypsy dress, and she wore it better than I ever did. That smooth flesh, muscles rippling whenever she moved, and exotic features were eye-catching. Her demeanor and warm confidence were so sexy that I found myself fantasizing about her.

We went out to eat and were finishing dinner and our second glass of wine, each. Giddy, laughing, and becoming fast friends, I stopped our train of thought and said, “there’s a hangout not too far from here. We could go, and you could find some handsome hunk to hook up with.”

She stopped laughing, her face growing serious. “I’m actually into women, not men.”

“Oh,” I replied. “Let’s go find you a hot woman to hook up with, then.”

We toasted to girl-on-girl sex after I confessed my bisexuality. “Too bad you’re married,” she mused.

“How flattering. What if I could play with anyone I wanted, married or not?”

She smiled, which made my pussy gush with arousal, soaking my thighs. “Then I’d say we skip the club, go back to your place, get fucked up, and see what happens.”

The club was skipped.

Raiding the wine cellar, an open bottle in each of our hands, our other hand wrapped around the other’s torso, we laughed in passionate anticipation, danced to too-loud music, and bonded. Though unspoken, the change in mood, the sexual tension now breaking the surface, had altered the feel of the evening, and we both knew it. We delighted in the other’s company, felt horny lust and our inhibitions had dissipated before we’d finished our entrées at dinner.

Shimmying to hard rock, simultaneously swigging from our bottles, I blurted out, “So are you lesbian or bi?”

She laughed, set down the bottle, and plopped onto the couch. “I prefer women, but there are some men that do it for me.”

I threw myself down beside her, grabbing her leg and throwing it over mine. My hand idly caressed her exposed calf, my pale, freckled skin contrasting with her smooth, chocolate perfection.

“So, you and Glade, then?”

Her eyes grew moist as they stared into mine, one hand gently moving a stray strand of my red hair away from my face. “No. Never. I would have, though. No offense.”

I gulped my wine, feeling quite decadent, drinking a fifty-dollar wine straight from the bottle. “Maybe you can. We’re allowed to play with anyone we want, so long as we don’t hide anything.”

Chris looked as if she were about to say something, one of her perfect eyebrows raised. Then she shrugged, grappled the bottle away from me, and took a slug of it, herself.

“Come here,” she ordered.

“Yes, ma’am,” I responded, trying to sound military, giving a silly salute.

Caught up in the beauty of the moment and the sexiness of mutual desire, our bodies responded in unison as our faces drew near, lips touching, tentatively, at first, then melting into a wet, passionate kiss that melted my heart, set fire to my cunt, and made me moan into her sweet mouth. Her tongue darted into my mouth, so delicate and sultry, gently probing.

My hands roamed over her back, desperately clawing, kneading her tight muscles. Each caress stoked the fires within my core. Soon, we were both moaning, and our hands were exploring the other’s bodies with wild abandon. Chris had leaned over me, pushing me onto my back on the couch. My one leg was bent over the cushion, her between my thighs, and I could feel the heat of her skin.

“It’s been so long,” her voice took on an even more lusty tone. “My panties are soaked.”

Controlled by sexy instinct, I tugged off the dress she was wearing, slowly exposing her overheated, creamy skin. Her white, cotton panties and matching bra virtually glowed on her mocha skin. I could see wetness dampening the crotch of her panties, and her nipples were poking through her bra.

“You are so beautiful. I’ve been wet for you all night.”

“Me too. I haven’t been laid in almost a year.” Her hand quickly ran up my thigh. “uuh, fuck,” she moaned into my ear. “You’re not wearing panties. Mmm.”

Quickly kicking the coffee table away, we moved to the floor, bodies intertwined and rolling, neither of us on top, neither on the bottom. Her triceps bulged with strength as her fingers sought my wet cunt, separating the lips and penetrating my soaked hole. Needing to return the favor, to feel her liquid fire, I caressed her mound over her panties, giggling when she moaned loudly and began humping my hand.

“You lie back, my sexy soldier girl, and let me make you feel good.”

“Mmm,” she purred. “Ma’am, yes, ma’am.”

Overcome with lust and uncontrollable passion, I was possessed with desire for her. I wanted to gaze into her Japanese eyes as her full lips screamed in orgasm; I needed to grab her long, shiny hair and pull her eager tongue into my sex. My teeth ached to nibble on her hard, dark chocolate nipples while her wet, pink clit throbbed in my hand.

Savoring the moment, I slowly spread her thighs, marveling at the smoothness of her flesh. As if starved for her beauty, consumed by her sexiness, my lips sucked and kissed from the crotch of her nectar-darkened panties down her inner thigh. Grazing the back of her knee with my tongue, my oral journey continued to her instep before I began at the bottom of her other leg and kissed and nibbled my way back up.

By the time I got near her cunt once more, I could feel the heat radiating off her most sacred of places. Chris was writhing back and forth in desperate, horny need. Her hair flew about, and her limbs flailed uncontrollably.

“Please,” she begged. “Please,” she repeated.

Rather than pull her panties off or to the side, I just flicked my tongue out, tasting her nectar soaked into the cotton, feeling her heat.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck” she cried out. Chris grabbed at her tits, squeezing them through her bra.

Although I began softly and slowly, her hands grabbed the back of my head and forced my mouth over the cloth-covered cunt so hard that I could barely breathe. Her clit was so swollen that it was a hardened nub grazing over my lips. Her hips were pumping up and down hard and fast, her entire body bucking. I had to grab Chris’ hips to keep my head in place.

“Fuck, cumming,” she screamed. “So good; don’t stop. Please, please, please, puh-lee-aase…” her sugary voice devolved into pure southern-accented grunts and groans.

I felt her cum juice pouring out of her, wetting my entire face, soaking her panties, and smelling of musky flowers in the rain. Her convulsions of ecstasy made her nubile, brown body slam into me over and over, bruising my lip as her mound ground into my teeth.

Then, Chris did something that surprised me. With a guttural growl, she spun around, pinning me to the floor. Holding my hands above my head, she forced her body between my legs, and humped my groin with her pussy, her head leaning in to kiss me. My face was wet with her cum, and she savored it, kissing her own fluid from my lips, then lapping it off my chin and cheeks.

All the while she was moaning, humping me, finally straddling my thigh and grinding her clit against it.

“You’re so hot, so sexy,” she chanted. “I want you. I want to see you cum, too.”

I pulled my dress up as much as I could manage, exposing my dripping pussy and stomach. Chris responded by quickly standing and peeling off her panties and bra. Her slit was hairless, recently shaved with only the barest hint of dark stubble. Her breasts were perfect, round globes with coffee-colored areolas, with little goosebumps around the perimeter.

She slid down, maneuvering her head between my legs, her cunt leaving a wet trail on my leg’s flesh. With a deftness that made me sharply inhale, her feminine fingers thrust themselves into my hole and fucked me. Almost immediately after she started stabbing my core with pleasure, her tongue circled my clit, making my entire body shiver.

“Fuck, you’re fucking good.”

“We get horny in the barracks,” she smiled, letting me gently nudge her head back to my needy cunt.

Chris ate me out with wanton enthusiasm, fucking me with one hand and massaging my breasts with her other. Rather than retract her fingers, plunging in and out, she’d force her hand as deep into my pussy as she could, her knuckles smashing my cunt lips. Then, she’d swirl her fingers around inside of me, the tips curling and rubbing against the soft, spongy upper regions of my canal.

All I could do was grab her head by her long hair and hump against her face. When I managed to open my eyes for more than a millisecond, I saw that she was staring at my face. Those oriental eyes, fine features, and smooth, dark skin were so sexy, made torridly hot by the fact that she was eating out my cunt. I erupted in an orgasm so powerful that all I could do was scream and wail. Chris rode out my release, fucking me harder and deeper, tugging on my nipples so rough that pain mingled with the pleasure.

“Let me eat you out while I play with your tits,” I begged when I came down from rapture.

Hours passed, and Chris made up for all her sexless time on duty. We ground our pussies together, getting off on each other's heat. We licked and sucked each other’s tits, slowly heightening arousal until we tore at each other's snatches, bringing more orgasms.

When it was over, I lay there, naked, cleaning up our mess from my flesh. Chris came down, nude except for her camouflage fatigue shirt, unbuttoned, showing off her body. Once more I was stunned by both her beauty and sexiness, which reinvigorated the glowing embers of lust in me, my catching fiery heat, anew.

“I’m a sucker for a soldier in uniform. I hope you’re still horny.”