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My Spouse
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Straight Male / 73
I Miss Her Terribly
In 1968 I finished high school and the way out was to go to Israel and get my dual citizenship. I went to a Kibbutz and joined the other boys and girls. The IDF was there and those girls with guns and hips and tits were too much to see and go to bed with my dick in my hand. I got in trouble one day and she took it personally and told me that I was like all the American boys, all I had was sex on my mind. Well all it took was one look at her to know why we had sex on our mind. I became her focus, the one one to drive into the ground. To make an example out of.
One afternoon after I had finished with my work and I went to the communal 'men's' showers she was waiting for me. "Show me". I unzipped and she took my penis in her hand, her fingers actually, and held it for a minute and asked me why she should let me fuck her. I said the fist thing that came to my mind "I don't know". "You can fuck me but you know what that means".
Oh that Hebrew girl. No Jewish American Princess could hold a candle to her. She made sure I understood that I knew what than meant. She wanted to get married and get an American passport. Here I was, running away and here she was wanting to run the other way. Her belly settled it, she had finished her required IDF assignment and we had a nice Jewish wedding at the Kibbutz, her parents and brother came (only then did I really understand that they were Austrian and had escaped by going to Switzerland where they had relatives).
Her parents were older than their age would tell you and I heard all about the war and how she was born to carry the Jewish traditions forward. When the war in Vietnam ended we traveled to the US where we set up to live with our now four year old daughter and two year old son. She was all IDF and I was her prisoner and I had to service her and keep her happy, or I knew what happened to prisoners that didn't. I don't think I ever got to be as strong as she was, all muscle and desert bravado.
Once the kids got older we went Kosher. She became a Jewish 'mother' and we kept all the traditions. Her hair always short, her shoulders wide and her breasts had grown and her thighs were bigger. But she kept that look, that cause for desire. And she always reminded me she was IDF and I was a Kibbutz American who had run away from the war.
One afternoon after I had finished with my work and I went to the communal 'men's' showers she was waiting for me. "Show me". I unzipped and she took my penis in her hand, her fingers actually, and held it for a minute and asked me why she should let me fuck her. I said the fist thing that came to my mind "I don't know". "You can fuck me but you know what that means".
Oh that Hebrew girl. No Jewish American Princess could hold a candle to her. She made sure I understood that I knew what than meant. She wanted to get married and get an American passport. Here I was, running away and here she was wanting to run the other way. Her belly settled it, she had finished her required IDF assignment and we had a nice Jewish wedding at the Kibbutz, her parents and brother came (only then did I really understand that they were Austrian and had escaped by going to Switzerland where they had relatives).
Her parents were older than their age would tell you and I heard all about the war and how she was born to carry the Jewish traditions forward. When the war in Vietnam ended we traveled to the US where we set up to live with our now four year old daughter and two year old son. She was all IDF and I was her prisoner and I had to service her and keep her happy, or I knew what happened to prisoners that didn't. I don't think I ever got to be as strong as she was, all muscle and desert bravado.
Once the kids got older we went Kosher. She became a Jewish 'mother' and we kept all the traditions. Her hair always short, her shoulders wide and her breasts had grown and her thighs were bigger. But she kept that look, that cause for desire. And she always reminded me she was IDF and I was a Kibbutz American who had run away from the war.
