know what, Reed? You’re a dick. I don’t owe anyone an explanation, not until I’m ready to give one. I’ve got a lot going on in my life right now, so why don’t you and everyone else just back off a little? I damn sure don’t need you making me feel like shit right now.”
Without a word, he walks over to me and places a kiss to my temple. When he pulls back, there’s a mischievous smirk on his face.
“There’s the Jo we all know and love.” He wraps his arms around my neck, pulling me against him in an unexpected hug. “You’ve still got your spark, Jo, let it ignite again. We all miss you.”
His words bring a fresh round of unshed tears to my eyes.
“Thanks, Reed.”
“Anytime. We just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m okay. I mean, I will be.”
He gives me a nod and I glance back at Miller who’s been silently watching our interaction.
“Monday?” I ask. She’ll understand what I’m questioning without me actually saying the words.
“Monday.” She nods. “I’ll get it set up.”
“Okay.”
I hug them both and see them out, then make my way to a hot shower. It’s time to wash off this grime and clean my house up.
Who knew Reed would be the one to snap me out of my depression? All it took was for him to piss me off for the old Jo to reappear.
It felt good to have some of my signature sass back, even if it was only momentarily. And he was right; I felt the spark, I know the old me is still there.
J.C.
I was slightly surprised to hear my name called out during mail call today. It’s a nice little gesture the group has done for each other since we all became friends; every time someone is deployed, we all band together and send them random care packages.
It’s very typical for other sailors to peek over shoulders trying to see what you got. And it’s a cruel joke for the senders, especially if they’re active duty military, to try to send some kind of embarrassing shit.
Knowing Reed and Marshall probably included something in the large box, I decide my safest option is to open it in the privacy of my rack.
Marshall has been known to send gay pornos in these packages before. That’s the last thing I need other guys to see.
I rip open the box, excited and nervous at the same time for what lies within. There is no note, there never is, but it’s easy to tell who put what in each package.
Shaving cream, razors and essentials like that are from Tess. She’s always made sure to send us bathroom necessities that are hard to come by on a ship.
A new external hard drive that I know contains another show for me to become addicted to is from Reed.
All of my important mail is courtesy of Hunter as well as the two packages of double stuffed Oreos. The guy knows I have a weakness for those cookies.
I riffle through the box more, growing anxious that I haven’t found anything embarrassing from Marsh yet, when I feel something soft, almost skin like. I run my hand along it trying to gage what it is before I finally reach the end and pull it out.
My eyes widen when I finally realize what it is. A long, pink tube like shape with a slit on one end. It’s soft and pliable to the touch.
It’s a fucking fleshlight .
That sick fucker.
Without a doubt, I know that Marshall is behind the horrid device. I don’t know which is worse, my fear of getting gay porn or actually getting a fleshlight. Either are incredibly odd and slightly creepy to get from a gay man.
I know I’m on a boat in the middle of the ocean, but I will, and have, gladly used my hand for those types of necessities.
I continue rummaging through the box seeing some other random snacks when I stumble upon a package of Moon pies and a six pack of RC cola.
Only one person knows my obsession with those two products. Jo Fuentes.
She’s also the only person who would go through the process of ordering them online and getting them shipped to Norfolk.
I don’t want to read too much into this, but I
Without a word, he walks over to me and places a kiss to my temple. When he pulls back, there’s a mischievous smirk on his face.
“There’s the Jo we all know and love.” He wraps his arms around my neck, pulling me against him in an unexpected hug. “You’ve still got your spark, Jo, let it ignite again. We all miss you.”
His words bring a fresh round of unshed tears to my eyes.
“Thanks, Reed.”
“Anytime. We just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m okay. I mean, I will be.”
He gives me a nod and I glance back at Miller who’s been silently watching our interaction.
“Monday?” I ask. She’ll understand what I’m questioning without me actually saying the words.
“Monday.” She nods. “I’ll get it set up.”
“Okay.”
I hug them both and see them out, then make my way to a hot shower. It’s time to wash off this grime and clean my house up.
Who knew Reed would be the one to snap me out of my depression? All it took was for him to piss me off for the old Jo to reappear.
It felt good to have some of my signature sass back, even if it was only momentarily. And he was right; I felt the spark, I know the old me is still there.
J.C.
I was slightly surprised to hear my name called out during mail call today. It’s a nice little gesture the group has done for each other since we all became friends; every time someone is deployed, we all band together and send them random care packages.
It’s very typical for other sailors to peek over shoulders trying to see what you got. And it’s a cruel joke for the senders, especially if they’re active duty military, to try to send some kind of embarrassing shit.
Knowing Reed and Marshall probably included something in the large box, I decide my safest option is to open it in the privacy of my rack.
Marshall has been known to send gay pornos in these packages before. That’s the last thing I need other guys to see.
I rip open the box, excited and nervous at the same time for what lies within. There is no note, there never is, but it’s easy to tell who put what in each package.
Shaving cream, razors and essentials like that are from Tess. She’s always made sure to send us bathroom necessities that are hard to come by on a ship.
A new external hard drive that I know contains another show for me to become addicted to is from Reed.
All of my important mail is courtesy of Hunter as well as the two packages of double stuffed Oreos. The guy knows I have a weakness for those cookies.
I riffle through the box more, growing anxious that I haven’t found anything embarrassing from Marsh yet, when I feel something soft, almost skin like. I run my hand along it trying to gage what it is before I finally reach the end and pull it out.
My eyes widen when I finally realize what it is. A long, pink tube like shape with a slit on one end. It’s soft and pliable to the touch.
It’s a fucking fleshlight .
That sick fucker.
Without a doubt, I know that Marshall is behind the horrid device. I don’t know which is worse, my fear of getting gay porn or actually getting a fleshlight. Either are incredibly odd and slightly creepy to get from a gay man.
I know I’m on a boat in the middle of the ocean, but I will, and have, gladly used my hand for those types of necessities.
I continue rummaging through the box seeing some other random snacks when I stumble upon a package of Moon pies and a six pack of RC cola.
Only one person knows my obsession with those two products. Jo Fuentes.
She’s also the only person who would go through the process of ordering them online and getting them shipped to Norfolk.
I don’t want to read too much into this, but I
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