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A hotwife makes a video for her overseas husband.

There was no real sleep, and we both knew that there was no chance of a future. She was married, but she hadn't seen her husband since his desertion. I had the impression that she fucked me to scratch her itch and retaliate for her hubby's cowardice. I just had the former reason, of course.

That being true, I had no objection to again seeing this naturally blonde, All-American diner waitress with her playful blue eyes and lustful smile. Her admitted preference for male authority figures made it that much easier for me. I didn't know how long we might last, but even a short-lived relationship would be nice for me, after my long romantic drought. Then again, marriage to her sounded even better, if she would have me.

"Well, we could always just get hitched, if you would prefer," I replied, half in jest.

"Hey, I haven't had any better offers," Summer remarked with a sigh of pleasure at the idea.

"A babe like you?" I expressed my doubts about that comment.

"I didn't say no offers, mind you. I just haven't had any better than yours," she pointed out.

"Now, that is more credible. So, what do you think about it?" I rather informally popped the question.

"What happens if we don't last?"

"We become roommates who share a last name and use each other as a booty call. Doesn't sound too bad, does it?" I grinned at the idea of that worst-case scenario and the logic involved in my proposal.

"Oh, what the hell? I get a hunk for a roommate who can help me pay the rent. And I get to sleep with him into the bargain. What are the drawbacks, again?" Summer laughed.

"You're actually considering it, then?" I reacted with pleasant surprise.

"Why not? This way, you get out of the Bachelor Officers' Quarters and I get to see my brother put on a tuxedo for the first time in years. That image in itself sounds great. Besides, being married to a male nurse sounds useful, anyway. You're a fine catch for any girl, especially in these hard times. Sure, I'll marry you. But there are two conditions," the blonde told me with a smile.

"What are they?" I inquired, truly curious.

"You have to knock me up, for one thing. I want at least one baby," she stuck her tongue out at me while saying that part.

"Really? You want me to impregnate you?"

"Sure, why not? Even if we don't last, you being my roommate would give me the stability needed to raise a child. You would be a great dad, I think, and the kid would be none the wiser until he was grown up. Which leads to the second condition," she said.

"Which would be what?" I was truly mystified.

"No divorce. Period. Like you said, we stay together as roommates. Not to mention fuckbuddies. That's if we prove less than soul mates," Summer explained with an easy grin. She clearly enjoyed the idea of us together as a couple, romantic or otherwise.

"So, in between boyfriends and girlfriends, and such, we could screw each other silly," I teased her.

"Honey, I don't care if you have a dozen girlfriends. Any time you want my body, you can have it on a silver platter. Marriage, however, is a dicier matter. If I am going to share my house with a guy, he'd better have something to make it worth my while. Otherwise, it can be a very rough place to live in. You see, I can be practical in my own way. Not all blondes are dumb. I'd suggest shacking up first, but I doubt the Militia would let its officers leave the Quarters short of something official to prove their intent to play house with a gal. As soft as I am on most issues, I am tough as nails about picking a roommate or husband," she clarified, with a mix of naughtiness and candor.

"Well, you have a point about that," I shrugged, because she indeed had one.

"Of course, I do.

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