Eric is back at work, traveling for an indeterminate amount of time.
I type from his spot in our bed. His scent lingering on the pillow propped under my head.
Last night, too late, packing and finalizing schedules, arranging meetings and dealing with email. I baked cookies, washed sheets, vacuumed, while I waited. Loving Eric requires a lot of waiting.
11:00 pm and the suitcase finally closed, finding it's place at the front door. We were both tired. Long weeks, long days.
When Eric wraps his arms around my body and presses his lips against mine, time stops and the world melts away. I close my eyes and breathe in his strength; passion, security and love.
We jumped in the shower; wet soapy skin, his cock growing under my touch, a light smack on butt cheeks with the steam rising around us.
I'm over his knee on the spanking chair; too loud so we move to the closet, where four hard smacks with the hairbrush have my knees shaking.
Back to the bed, sudden sexual explosion. Black leather cock ring on him, black leather cuffs on me; legs spread and deep penetrating invasion of all the right spots. I'm upside down holding the rails of the foot board. We switch and I ride his cock while he lays back watching boobs bounce and hair cascade around my shoulders. I'm over the bed, bottom spanked, ass penetrated with a toy, body convulsing and screams buried in the covers. On my back, Eric goes down and licks the pulsing, twitching clit as my brain swims in a sea of pleasure. He hands me a toy and I play where his tongue left gentle kisses while he cums; thick, salty, white all over my tits.
Another shower and we crawl under crisp cool sheets. Daylight comes too soon and with the tiniest bit of sun rays slipping through the blinds, I catch the outline of Eric's face and wonder, "Who is this man in my bed? Who is this man who has studied me to the point that at times, I believe he knows more about me than I know of myself?"
My fingers cannot resist reaching out and checking to see if he's real. Smooth soft skin, their tips dance along his hairline, across his back and arms, over his balls. He stirs and I know I should just leave him alone, let him sleep for one more minute. My fingers do not listen and he moans under the pressure of their gentle caresses. I massage his hands, a thank you for holding, spanking, pinching, pulling, grabbing, stroking and invading me.
It becomes too late to stay in bed any longer. The shower turns on and Eric is dressed before I get a chance to feel him inside me again. There is no time for a leisurely chat over breakfast, no moment for a quick round of discipline, no continuation of our night of passion. A quick kiss and a hug, he's at the door when I hand him a bag of cookies.
Eric apologizes for being so late in prepping for his trip but asks, "Was it worth the wait?"
Yes, my darling. You are always worth the wait.