I was scared. So scared. If we got caught—disaster. But, Brave Elephant, I call-whispered back, “I’m over here!”
Then I awake with a start inside a dream come true.
I’m in a room straight out of a magazine. White linen sheets, soft downy pillows, an entire two corner section of wall made out of glass windows overlooking a placid body of water. My husband and I call it a lake. But my little sister Daphne calls it a pond—with a snide tone.
Tess’s Great Lakes State pride is really rubbing off on her. Or maybe Daphne was just a small-lake-poo-pooing Midwesterner stuck in Louisiana that whole time.
I wish I could remember.
“You awake?” The bed depresses behind me—my husband rolling over to pull me into his strong arms.
He’s sporting some serious morning wood, and I naughtily rub my bottom against it as I answer, “I am now.”
He chuckles low and dark and drops kisses down the back of my neck—a secret erogenous zone only he knows.
Then he flips me onto my back and keeps going to another zone. This one isn’t such a huge secret, but what he does down there with his tongue and fingers awakens all sorts of pleasure points I didn’t know I had.
In less than a minute, he has me biting my lip. I bring my hands down to his hair, and my three-band stacked Tiffany wedding ring set winks between his dark locks as I writhe and moan under his mouth.
But it’s not enough.
“Fuck me!” I gasp. “Please, fuck me. I want to feel you inside me. Please, baby?”
He stills. Then resumes eating me out like he didn’t hear me—even though I know he did.
Before I can protest, he pulls his fingers out of my pussy, and pushes his wet middle finger into my rear entrance, teasing it round and round the tight hole. Either to distract me from my request or because he has a busy morning planned, and he knows this will send me straight over the edge.
Whatever the case, having a thick finger in such a taboo place while the most wonderful man in the world licks and sucks on my sex is an immediate conversation stopper. I cry out when an orgasm crest over me unexpectedly, shooting my legs out straight and arching my back off the bed like something possessed.
“I’m going to go take a shower,” he says into the puddle of wife goo he made on the bed. “Gotta get to work early.”
He took such good care of me with that orgasm. I try not to mind how quickly he’s withdrawing from our bed. And I’ve read several online articles about how penetrative sex isn’t everything to help me with my feelings over the past few months.
But gotta admit, I’m still smarting when he emerges from the bathroom about twenty minutes later to grab a couple of suits from his walk-in closet.
“Which one?” he asks, holding them both up. He always lets me decide what he’s going to wear when he’s at the office all day in meetings instead of out on construction sites with his guys.
“The light blue one brings out your eyes,” I answer, sitting up in our ridiculously large bed. “But the black one says Ruthless Mogul to me. So it depends on how much you want to intimidate who you’re meeting with today.”
“It’s just the guys from the Louisiana office, updating me on the progress with Bayou Falls, so I’ll put the black one back,” he says, heading back into the closet. “And don’t forget we’ve got dinner with—”
“Desmond Keane and his wife, I know, I know. The Real Estate Kings finally connect!” I answer with a laugh. “And don’t forget my sister’s the one who got you that meeting—because she never will.”
“Ever,” he agrees from inside the closet before emerging in the light blue suit. “She’s already texted me a list of all the things I could get her as a thank you gift. Including an Apple Watch.”
“Aw, I’ll talk to her when I see her. Tess once told her she had champagne tastes on a root beer budget when she asked to go to New York City for a Broadway weekend on her birthday. Of course, she just asked her dad the next time I dropped her off, and he took her on his weekend. Tess was so annoyed…”
We both freeze after I say that.
He breaks the silence first. “Another memory?”
“Yeah but…” Tears well up in my eyes. “This is so frustrating. It’s just stupid bits and pieces. Nothing I really need. Like our wedding. And our life together before that.”
I know he’s got that early meeting, but he drops right back down on the bed to rub my back.
“We’ll get through this,” he promises me.
“It’s been a year,” I point out. “What if this is as good as it gets?”
