the little black dress, Part VI

would you please make me a sandwich?

she promptly threw her head back and laughed.

the cursor kept blinking at her, mocking her. she sat back from her computer. the damn story lacked detail and she knew it. something was different. she knew the writing about the foreplay between the strangers was good, damn good, but chemistry was gone. she needed another angle.

babe? she called out.

she knew she this entry of her story wasn't where she felt it should be. she was frustrated, she didn't know what else to write. she needed inspiration.

yep? he walked into the room, dishtowel slung over his shoulder. he looked so sexy. since he had stopped smoking, his face looked so much more handsome, less weathered. she drug her eyes over his body. his flannel pants slung low on his hips. there were damp spots on his t-shirt where the dish water had assaulted him, wanting to get as close to him as she was going to be. in just a few short months, they would celebrate their eighth anniversary. it was unbelievable how much they had been through--two miscarriages, one stillborn baby, the death of each of their parents, the birth of their son, who, tonight, was with his brother. these thoughts escaped her mind nearly as soon as she thought them. she smiled a small smile and with her eyes beaming love, she walked to him.

i love you. she told him as she looked into his eyes telling him that she would prove it as she had on countless nights like this one. as she stepped into his embrace, she could feel him begin to strain against her stomach. she planted her smile into his lips. she had forgotten the last time she had kissed him, couldn't remember his taste--the roadmap on his tongue. she used the tip of her tongue to lave his bottom lip. it was fuller than his top lip. as she attended to his lip, she felt his moustache tickle her lip. soon, she knew her face and body would be rouged from the five o'clock shadow that would rub against her cheeks...and thighs.

lazily, with intent, he began to kiss her. he invited her tongue into his mouth. he stroked her tongue reminding her of how he would love her later. immediately the crotch of her panties became moist. she loved him like this, willing and open. she felt his hands burrow their way underneath her layers of clothes to touch the sensitive skin of her back. she snaked her arms around his neck to caress the back of his neck. she marveled at the feel of the closely cropped hair at his nape.

as his hands covered her breasts, stroking her nipples through the thin cloth of her bra, the shrill scream of the kettle interrupted their play.

frustrated, he placed his forehead against hers. with a derisive laugh he said,

hold that thought. i was making you some tea to comfort you while you wrote.

she watched him retreat to the kitchen thinking how truly blessed she was. he was a good man. and she would get the inspiration she needed to continue her story tonight. she started to the kitchen after him knowing she would find bliss.