How We Do..

 

I come home from work to my teal, v-neck, poplin dress laid out on the bed. Beside it a pair of thigh highs with the line up the back and my pink lace garter belt set.

Such an outfit this late at night?

I don’t hear or see you in the house. Can’t recall your car in the driveway? I shrug. Guess I’ll hit the shower. It’s been a day.

 

I open the cabinet for my razor. Clip on a new blade. Quite sure this is required with that outfit. Turn on the water and let the room to steam. I step in the tub. Enjoy the burning drops. Toss my hair up for the shaving process. Lather my body wash/moisturizer up my calves, shins, inner and outer thighs. Guiding the razor, peeling away soap and little hairs. Hot water, hurried droplets down my leg. Stretching and turning. Careful not miss a spot.

We don’t get these opportunities often. Life has taken over. The hum drum obligations of the world outside our home. I notice her body wash has been used recently. I had always hated Axe products. But she wears it well. I pop the cap open and inhale. Like clips from a movie trailer. Her dark brown hair and deep brown eyes are flashing before me.

How can I miss you so much when we live together?

I put the body wash back where she left it and continue my shower. Thinking of her scent. Her touch. That touch that sends tingles all over me. Forgetting my daze. Trying to believe she’d set those clothes out before work. Not knowing that she’d take another shift tonight.

Does she miss me too? I rinse off, shut off the water, grab a towel for my hair and another for my body. When I open the door, the steam and shower perfumes escape behind me. Whipping my hair up in a towel. I notice your shoes. Slowing my pace. Taking in your handsome attire. Black slacks and a black button down shirt. No tie? And that relaxes me. We’re doing something dressy/casual.

You hand me a glass of champagne. “What’s the occasion?” I inquire. “You blew our money on those jet skis?” Pretending to be disappointed and secretly planning summer vacations.

You hand me a plate of fresh strawberries, chuckle, “No, Dear. I just love you.”

 

My shoulders suddenly relax. An involuntary reaction you control. Worry, concern and care drops out of my fingers. You notice and set your glass down. Pull the towel off my head, sliding your hands down my shoulders. Applying a little massage. My head now rests in the crook of your neck. My work day is fading with the steam. Your lips tickle along my collarbone. Up my neck and to my lips.

You smell so good. This feels good. You’re so good.

The way we kiss. I want us lost in each other. How we do. I go to unbutton your shirt. I want our skin touching. I have missed you. This. Us.

“I’m dressed.you’re not.I have plans.” You whisper in my ear. You back away, “Red lips, red nails and that thing you do with your eyes.”

“The wings, Honey?”

“Yes that.” Answered with a smirk and a point of the finger.

Music unleashed through the house. Our “going out” playlist of dirty dancing hip hop, a few random 80’s hits, country legends and blues. Applying the make up and doing my hair you occasionally sneak up to refresh my drink, give me a kiss or grab my ass.

You’re cute when you’re like this. On top of the world. You’re most handsome dancing and strutting through the house. I love that I can see everything in this mirror.

You’re rocking my world. My heart is full.

Stress from work has disappeared. Completely. I love that you do this. Hair done, nails dried and make up applied.

Clasping the little bra, I feel your eyes. One leg after the other through the slinky thong. I feel you watching me. I wonder if you’ve chosen the appropriate undergarments for tonight?

The things you do while you do nothing at all.

You act like you’re texting. Relaxed on our bed. I wrap the garter belt around my waist. One leg after the other, rolling the stockings up, keeping the line straight.

You’re not pretending anymore.

I attach the straps to the stockings.

“You’re so sexy.” You sigh.

I lean over the bed to crawl on top of you. “You picked it out.” I whisper straddling you.

Your hands go over my breasts, smooth over my sides, coming together at the small of my back. My hips sink onto yours. You grab my ass and I kiss you. Small grinding over your black slacks. You run your hands up and down my thighs.

You smell good. This feels good. You’re so good.

Your hand reaches behind my ear for you to kiss me again. Lifting your hips from the bed. Pushing yourself against me.

“I’ll ruin your pants.” I breathe. More kisses on my neck. I feel your fingers rubbing small circles on my nipples through the thin bra. You slip your other hand under my thong. Your finger rests on my clit,  slides between my lips and back up again.

You whisper, “I’ve missed you.” You hold my hips in place and slide your fingers inside me.

I try not to grab your hair. Remember that you had made plans. I kiss you. Your fingers sliding in and out of me at a calm yet eager pace. Your palm against my clit.

Ready to cum, “I’ve missed you too.” We kiss each other again as I cum on your fingers.

You rest your head on my chest and I hold you. Still pulsing on your fingers inside me.

We hold each other. Pleased. Lost.

I kiss your forehead. You kiss my chest, “Let’s get you something to eat.”

I climb off of you. Off of our bed. You lay back. I clean myself up. On my way out the bathroom you walk in. I inspect your pants. Relieved and I smile. You smile. You wash your hands while I put on my dress and heels you picked out. Hands dried, you hug me from behind.

“You smell so good. This feels good. You’re so good.” I whisper.