She reaches up and puts her hand on the side of my face. “Go ahead and get comfortable.”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice.
“Be right back.”
I head into the bathroom where I drop my suit in the laundry basket designated for clothes going to the dry cleaner, strip out of my socks and boxers, and then wash my hands. I’ve been traveling all day, so I would’ve liked a shower, but my wife obviously has something else in mind.
“Hi again.” I slide onto the bed beside her, and she wraps her arms around me.
“Hi.” Her voice is a whisper.
“Everything okay, babe?”
“Everything is wonderful.” She smiles softly. “Make love to me, Zaan.”
It’s an odd request.
Not because we don’t have sex often—because we do, a lot, in fact—but because of the way she asked.
“You sure everything is okay?”
She kisses me in response, her mouth greedy for mine.
I run my hand over her bare ass, immediately swept up in her obvious need for me. We have a healthy sex life, so planning a romantic evening for sex feels off. But I don’t question it because there’s no universe where I turn down a request from my wife to make love to her.
She pushes me onto my back and straddles me, resting her hands on my shoulders. My fingers skim her hips as I gaze up at her. Her hair is long and blond, falling around her chest and shoulders. Her breasts are tattooed, because she hates her mastectomy scars, and I never tire of looking at the beautiful design. Her breasts have almost no sensitivity after so many surgeries, but she enjoys when I caress them.
I reach up and cup them, gently running my thumbs along the soft skin. Her eyes flutter closed, and she slowly sinks down on my cock. We sigh in unison, and I continue to stroke her breasts as she starts to move.
She doesn’t appear to be in any hurry, taking her time as she rises and falls, our bodies finding a familiar rhythm. There’s nothing more beautiful than watching my wife grinding and rocking on me. She’s lean and toned, with a flat stomach and spectacularly long legs. I particularly love when they’re wrapped around my neck as I go down on her, but this is good too.
“God, you feel good,” she whispers, clenching around me. “I don’t want it to end.”
“Eventually we’ll have to, but we’re not in a rush.” I grip her hips and force her to slow down. “Look at me, baby.”
She turns her aquamarine eyes to me questioningly.
“You going to tell me what’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” She looks more amused than surprised.
“Come on. You’ve been keeping something from me all week, and then I come home to a romantic evening in bed. What’s going on?”
She gives me a soft, sweet smile.
“You’re going to have to make me come before I tell you anything.”
“Is that so?” Now that the playful side of her is back, I’m less concerned. “Well, that’s easy.”
Before she can react, I flip us over so she’s on her back and I’m on top of her. I take both of her hands in one of mine and hold them above her head. Then I drive into her at the angle I know will make her crazy.
“Oh, fuck…Zaan!” Her breath comes out in a whoosh of air, and she bucks against me.
“That’s my girl…” I thrust hard and deep, because that’s what she likes.
She wiggles, struggling to free her hands while simultaneously letting me take over. I’m not rough, but I’m not gentle either and the steady pace has the desired effect. She arches up to meet me and then it’s game over. She bucks and moans as she spasms around me and I’m right behind her.
Then we lay there, completely wrapped up in each other.
