Brief, Part 2

(Part 1 from 1)

I knew that we had only known each other a short time, but there was magic when we made love. No doubt about it. In light of his note, I knew I wasn’t losing my mind, that he felt it too. It wasn’t like he could hide from me. He and I were on each others messenger lists for every messenger program out there.
But, I was still married. I know in this day and age, that isn’t good for much, but I was raised Catholic and while I wasn’t a practicing Catholic now, I still held to the values of the Church.
In his arms that night, I felt something more than carnal good feelings. The carnality was there in the rough way he took me, the power of the way he made love to me. (Made love? When did it cease being just SEX, damn it?) We barely spoke a word, but we both knew it. How could I have been so stupid as to let him leave…Why didn’t I wake up when he left the bed?
But thinking these things at work is certainly not going to do me any good, so I turned my attention back to the account I was trying to handle. But, as is always the case when you decide to do something you’ve been putting off, then phone rang. My husband calling to tell me he was going out of town for a week, could I handle things on my own? (If you only knew…I thought to myself with a pang of guilt.)

“Of course I can, baby, have a good time!!”


When I got home that evening, I thought briefly about making dinner, but changed my mind when I realized I could get online and see if he was on. After I logged on and checked to see if he was (grand surprise, he wasn’t.) I sent a message to one of my other online friends to say I was home if she needed anything. Then I checked my email. The one I received was, to say the least, disturbing.

Samantha,
I know you’re probably angry with me for leaving the way I did. But I also know you to be a level headed person. I know you are grasping what I did and why I did it. But here’s the thing. If you are following your normal routine, you waited until you got home to check this. That means your husband is already gone. (Surprised?) That also means it is about 6:00 p.m. I will be there at 6:30 p.m. If you answer the door, that means you have forgiven me. If not, I will understand. I know I left and I know you’re hurt, but I can’t stay away from you. Please, open the door for me, love. Don’t turn away what you know we could have.
~ Me

Did your jaw fall to the floor like mine did?? I couldn’t believe what I’d just read. Luckily for me, it was NOT 6:00 p.m. I left work early to do some thinking since my husband wasn’t going to be home. It was only 5:00 pm which meant I had plenty of time… and I used it.
I changed the sheets on the bed to the cool, clean cotton sheets in the closet. Hey, as romantic as I’d like to be, married life doesn’t really require satin sheets, although it may have helped once or twice. I scrounged up all the candles in my house and put them around the bedroom. It still wasn’t quite right, so I ran to the store and picked up a bottle of inexpensive wine (hey, just because I don’t practice it, I know what romance is!) and a sheer nightgown. It was a beautiful creation! It was made of white sheer material that fell all the way to my ankles. It had a slit up both sides to mid-thigh, spaghetti straps and a back that was open all the way to the base of my spine. I wish I had taken pictures, because I would put one here for you. It was amazing.
When he arrived, I had a simple meal made, candles lit, and I was wearing the nightgown. Without a word, he took me into his arms and nuzzled my throat, softly nibbling and biting. I pushed him away and told him that we had things to talk about and a meal to eat, why don’t we sit down. ;) He gave me this look that plainly said, “UNFAIR!!” but sat down at the table with me. I served him his food, a glass of wine, and sat down with mine. There were no words for what we really wanted to say, and I knew now wasn’t the time to ask about my husband going out of town and what he might have had to do with it, so we remained quiet. Under the table, I held his hand, rubbing my thumb along his fingers, just to reassure myself that he was really there.
He looked at me, saying with his eyes what there were simply no words for, and led me back to the living room.
“I know we have to talk and I know there are a lot of things that need to be said, but all I want from you right now, Samantha, is for you to show me that you forgive me. I need to know that I haven’t lost you.”
I wound my arms around his neck and in the only language we needed, I began to tell him exactly what he wanted to hear. I kissed his ears, his neck, finally his mouth while I moved my hands down his chest to work on the buttons of his shirt. My hands trembling, my knees weak, I took his shirt and threw it on the floor and started on his pants. He grabbed my hands and asked me where the bedroom was. I took him by the belt loop and led him to the bedroom. When I turned back around to face him, he had removed his pants and was working on finding the light switch. I turned it off for him and the room was bathed in candle light. He placed his hands on my shoulders and began sliding the straps down, kissing each spot as he bared it. Down, past my collarbone (kiss) over my arms (kiss nibble) over my breasts (nibble bite kiss nibble) stomach (lick) hips (nibble nibble) thighs (tickle) knees (kiss) legs (kiss nibble lick bite) floor. And back up again. Just before I could scream in frustration, he picked me up and laid me on the bed, once again holding my arms prisoner above my head. With one hand holding my arms, he drew a path down my arms, stopping to thread his fingers through my hair pulling my face to his for a kiss, softly down my sides (making me laugh because I am ticklish) over my belly and back up to my face, he kissed me again. Then he winked at me and told me to close my eyes. He said not to move, just to feel. We had all night and he wasn’t in a hurry. He took his hand from my arms and I held them there while his mouth and tongue traced a path from ear lobe to neck. From neck to breasts. At least twice, he brought me almost to the point and then he stopped. Sucking my nipples hard into his mouth and running his fingers along the underside of my breast. Mere seconds of him doing this had me arching my hips off the bed, begging for release. I brought my hands to his head, pulling him closer and he stopped. Leaning up on one elbow, he glared at me and refused to touch me again. Then he ran his hands along my arms, catching my wrists and putting them back over my head.
“Don’t move again, or I will leave.”
Then the torture began again. All I could think of was his mouth an hands on my chest, my nipples, making me so wet I squirmed. Then he lowered himself to my belly, my hips and finally, mmm his tongue was inside me, driving me insane. I felt my body building closer to an orgasm, and I began moaning, god baby, please don’t stop. I am so close… and just as I was about to go over the edge, he stopped. He raised himself on his arms, put his throbbing cock just barely inside me and asked, “Do you want me?”
I have never been a person who could say what she wanted, so I nodded. He pulled away and shook his head. “I said, do you want me?? Tell me you want me.” “God baby, please, don’t do this to me. I want you!!” I said, very quietly. “Tell me exactly what you want from me. I want to hear you say what you want me to do to you.” “I can’t do that baby, please, don’t tease me.” “Yes, you can” (short thrust) “tell me what you want me to do.” “Ahh, God, please, please, please, please just fuck me!!” “Tell me how.” “PLEASE, God, fuck me hard, just do it, for god sake and stop teasing me!”
And he did, slammed himself into my wet, aching, throbbing body over and over again till I screamed out, “God I am going to come, please FUCK come with me!!” “No,” he said, “not yet.” And stopped. Just like that. Rolled me onto my stomach, put himself back inside my body and told me, “Now we can come.” And drove himself to the hilt again and again, but this time, I didn’t even have time to warn him before my body gave over to shaking and coming with everything I had onto his throbbing, pulsing, also coming cock.
Hours later, we woke up (together this time) not knowing in a few short hours, we would have to answer to our unknown audience.

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