Sunday, October 25, 2015


She snaps the shot and then quickly attaches the word "waiting" to the text.  It feels like she's been waiting forever.  It took them a month to find one night when they could be together.  Being a single mom doesn't afford her many opportunities for a romantic getaway.  Neither does his being married.  Vicky is quick to justify that they've already discussed divorce and she is not the reason, thankfully.  She couldn't deal with the guilt.  But now, like this, she can't stay away.  He's just wicked enough to make her feel more like a woman and less like Mom.  She throws her phone on the bed and looks at the clock.  Another hour.

Still wet hair falls in waves around her shoulders.  She examines herself in the mirror. Some spots too lean, some spots too soft.  She smiles, knowing he'd say she was perfect.  Him... he is perfect.  Broad shoulders.  Trim waist.  A little gray at the temples and dimples to boot.  And that dick!  He works miracles with that thing.  Heat rushes over her as she remembers their last time.  His lunchbreak.  Her minivan.  Perfection.

Her hand dips down and brushes her thigh as she thinks about him.  The heat spreads.  She thinks of that soft growl in her ear.  The way he pulls her hair.  His hard cock nestled against her ass.  The sweet burn when he begins to push himself inside her.  She makes her way to the bed and the towel drops to the floor.  Another glance at the clock before a wicked grin flashes across her face.  A myriad of images flutter through her mind.  Their first kiss.  The first time she said no.  The first time she said yes.  The way his mouth sets her on fire.

Her hands brush across her breasts, her nipples hardening to tight peaks.  A hand strays down her belly, seeking her own wet warmth.  She sits on the edge of the bed where she can still see the mirror.  She likes the way she looks when she thinks of him, so wild and free.  And this... this is what he sees when she is beneath him.  Her fingers swirl around her swollen clit.  She gasps, unable to tear her eyes from her reflection.  Cheeks flushed.  Lips parted.  Fingers moving faster, harder, as she imagines they're his.  His are like lightning.  like magic.

The build is fast, desire peaking, though nothing she can do is enough.  Pinch her nipples.  Slide her fingers deep inside her hungry sex.  Think more of his sweat dripping over her as he thrusts deep and hard.  She whimpers and get phone rings.  A smile flickers as she sees his face on the screen.  One hand continues to play as she picks up the phone, gasping his name.

"Started without me I hear."

Sure replies with a frustrated moan.  "But I can't... I need you."

She hears the amusement in his voice.

"You started.  You'll finish right now with me on the phone.  And you'll damn sure be ready for more when I get there.  Now move your fingers in a tight circle over your clit.  You know how good that feels, don't you?"

She moans.

"Answer me."

"Yes... yes, it feels so.... oh, God, yes... yes...oh, fuck..."

He laughs as she cums, loving that all she needed was him.  She tries to talk, but nothing comes out.

"That's my girl.  Now open this door.  It's time for round two."

She lays the phone down with a smile and goes to the door, relieved that, at least for tonight, her wait is over.

Friday, October 16, 2015

Welcome Home

She was waiting.  She'd been waiting.  It'd been months since he'd touched her, since she felt his lips on her skin.  Sure, he kissed her goodnight or goodbye.  He greeted her with a brusque brush of his lips when he got home from work.  But had he really kissed her?  Not in what felt like ages.  She'd dropped hints.  She told him she missed him, which he dismissed as silliness since he saw her everyday.  But she missed him.  The fire of his touch.  The rough scrape of his calloused hands.  Being stretched tight around him as he filled her body and soul.

She heard the car door.  His steady gait on the walkway.  His key in the lock.  He came in and she saw the shadows from a long day play in his eyes.  She watched him toss his keys and wallet in the bowl on the table and set his satchel on the floor.  Her eyes softened, knowing that next he'd loosen his tie and unbutton his top button.  He'd look in the kitchen for her then cross to the stairs.  He'd sigh as he climbed them, his day escaping his lungs in a slow exhale.  She knew he'd do it all as she knew him.  But today was different.  Her stomach flutters and danced with insecurity.  Today she was waiting.  Today she hoped he'd understand.

He was nearly to the top of the stairs when he saw her.  His eyes registered his shock, then lit with pleasure.  He loosened his tie, slid it from his collar and dropped it on the top step.  He crossed to her with words on his lips.

"You look lovely," he said.

He reached for her, a warm smile touching his lips.  She sighed her relief.

He unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it to the floor.  Shoes.  Socks.  Belt.  Pants.  boxers.  She watched in amusement, certain he would have led her to the bedroom instead of kneeling on the landing, his erection straining to reach for her.  He leaned forward, brushing his lips over her forehead before fitting them to her mouth.  His kiss.  His taste, uniquely him on her tongue.  She moaned into him as they found each other both foreign and familiar.  His lips left hers and found the shell of her ear.

"I've missed you, too," he whispered.

She smiled against his shoulder.

He understood.