Sarah's P.O.V.
"Specialist Conover!" shouted the male voice. Ordinarily Sarah would have snapped to attention but she knew the voice. It was just mail call. Still, it did surprise her. The only person Sarah got mail from was her grandmother and a fresh batch of cookies had just arrived a week earlier.
Sarah stood up wearily from her table. She'd been trying to enjoy a meal after a long day. She was now two months into her deployment and some of her familiar fatigue, boredom and stress had again crept back inside her. Unsurprisingly, things had fallen apart a little without her and Sarah was spearheading a yeoman effort to clear a backlog of busted Humvees, leaving her drained to the point of exhaustion. She was desperate to get back to her bunk to enjoy a few hours of downtime. She looked up and smiled at the young private delivering the mail and signed for it.
"More cookies, I guess," the private said as he handed her the small, brown box.
Sarah gave a pitying laugh at the predictability of her mail before instantly recognizing that this was not the same old package she tended to receive every few months. The return address was not her grandmother.
It was, in fact, from June Reilly. Care of O'Flaherty's Pub.
Sarah had, much like June had predicted, not been able to forget June or their night together for a single day of her deployment. While there were moments where she was alone and thought back fondly of it, the truth was that thinking of June and the things she could have been doing with her had made her time on the base even harder. The only thing keeping Sarah going on some days was the promise of that second night.
Sarah stood up and quickly rushed from the mess. Sarah had been quartered with a mechanic in another unit and she knew that her roommate was working a different shift than she was. That meant June's package could be opened in private. Sarah completed the trip from the mess to her barracks in record time, her heart pounding with anticipation. Arriving at her quarters, Sarah rushed to her room, locking the door behind her for good measure. She didn't know what she was expecting in her package but there was a strong desire on her part to see it privately. Sarah reached for her pocketknife and was soon tearing the brown paper wrapping open, doing the same to the packing tape.
Sarah laughed when she got it open. Inside was a small metal tin. Reaching in, Sarah carefully removed the top to reveal stacks of small chocolate chip cookies. Sarah laughed at her luck. She lifted the cookie tin out and set it on her desk.
As she did, she saw that there was something else in her package. A large manila envelope was packed tightly beneath the cookies. Sarah reached inside for it and could feel it was fairly thick. She undid the small red tie at the back of the envelope and reached inside.
They were pictures. High quality, glossy, eight by elevens. The first was of June. She was standing against what Sarah recognized as the wall in her apartment where they'd first kissed. The only thing June appeared to be wearing was the olive green regulation t-shirt that Sarah had left behind. June's hands were at the bottom of the shirt, tugging it down, stretching the material over her hips and covering herself.
On Sarah the shirt had been tight. On June, stretching over her massive chest and being pulled down, the shirt was like a second skin. Sarah could clearly make out the outlines of the puffy nipples she'd so enjoyed having in her mouth. Her red hair was slightly messy and she had no make-up on. She looked, Sarah thought, very much like she had the morning after their night together.
The other photos were similar. They were all risqué and revealing but not obscene or sleazy. The next was a side shot of June in her kitchen. This time she was in high heels, perfectly made up and with her hair done. There was a string of pearls around her neck. She was making what looked like the cookies she'd sent. The only thing she appeared to be wearing was a thin, white apron and there were patches of white flour on her ample cleavage. There was another with a yellow ribbon and bow around her chest, the material just wide enough to cover June's nipples, and only June's own hands strategically placed between her legs. There were others. One of June as an impossibly busty French maid, caught in an expression of surprise. June in what looked like bridal lingerie and a veil. Each photo had a message written on the back in red lipstick. There was "34F-24-37", "Keeping the home fires burning", "Untie my Yellow Ribbon" and various other sexually suggestive notes. The very last simply read, "Your very own pin-up girl."
