It's a long day at the observatory. There's a new film, Russian-made, that I had to translate into subtitles so people can watch it tomorrow evening. We always expect a big crowd on the Holidays. Fourth of July especially. My hand shakes slightly as I slide my key into my lock. To keep myself from slumping against the door and passing out as I turn the key, I imagine, painfully, how the teeth of the little bit of silver in my hand manipulate the pins inside the lock, just to keep myself awake long enough to kick off my sneakers, drop my laptop bag, and collapse onto the black leather couch in our living room.
I was woken up a few hours later to Liz's lips on mine, a quiet greeting that she probably didn't mean to wake me with. Or maybe she did. Maybe she thought, in my sleep deprived mood, that I might punish her in some cruel and sadistic way. She likes the cruel sadistic ways I punish her. And all she ever has to offer is that I should go further next time. So sure in her ability to misbehave she knows there will BE a next time.
Or maybe she just wanted to say hi.
Regardless, I opened my eyes and sat up slowly. I'd flipped onto my back in my sleep. She shushed me and tried to (lightly) push me back down. "Shh. I'm sorry, go back to sleep baby..." She crooned.
But I was awake. As I took her in, I knew she'd just been to the supermarket and back. Groceries on the kitchen counter confirmed my suspicion. She was dressed in jeans and an over large sweatshirt that fit me well. ("A man's t-shirt on a woman is the same as a flag on Everest; conquered!" I could hear my dad say.) Her feet were bare where she'd kicked off flip-flops by the door. I pulled a glass from the cabinet and got myself some cold water from the fridge dispenser. She was talking.
"We needed buns and condiments for the cookout tomorrow, so I went to Jewel down the road. I got you pumpernickel." She mentioned off-hand to me, waving vaguely at the loaf of dark brown bread covered in a fine layer of flower already put away in the breadbox. Just for that, I put my hands gently on her hips, kissed her cheeks, and stared over her shoulder as she pulled things from bags. She smiled, I could tell.
"Thanks babe." I told her, my arms suddenly surrounding her body and lifting her surprisingly into the air, her legs kicking and her screaming in faux outrage, the effect ruined by her hysterical giggling. Her hair fell back into my face as I lifted her up and kissed her neck. She stopped shouting and turned her head to kiss me. I put her down slowly as I savored her lips against mine.
"You're welcome..." She answered finally, turning her body to face me, wrapping me in one of her warm, tingly hugs. Over her shoulder, my hand reached into the bread box, where I took a slice of the bread and bit down on it, before pulling back and offering her the other half. She bit down playfully, grinning, and we were reenacting the most well known movie about dogs Disney ever made.
I have this thing about bread, I just like it. Any kind of bread. Toasted or not, I will definitely snack on it. I figure maybe four pieces of this loaf will actually end up toasted and buttered with breakfast. The rest, well, one slice rolls into two... Liz is the same about coffee. We keep a lot of coffee in our house. We have three coffee makers. One in our bedroom/office, in case she doesn't want to walk down the hall to pour herself a mug, the one in the kitchen, and the backup, which for some reason she put in the bathroom when she unpacked her stuff here nearly two years ago. It just sits there under the sink, collecting dust. As a kind of Thank-You-For-Living-With-Me-And-Loving-Me present, I got her the most expensive Keurig at the store and made her put on a blindfold before I let her see it.
Toast and Coffee go well together. Just like Elliot and Elizabeth.
After eating a slice between us I let go of her and started putting the ketchup and sauerkraut into the fridge, even though I was still ridiculously tired. Something about Liz revitalizes me.
"Write about anything interesting?" I asked her. Liz is an online journalist, she works from home. She shrugged, chomping on a slice.
"Politics in Greece. Fucked up stuff, going on there. They cut Social Security, benefits for the elderly, food stamps, trying to stabilize their government." I nodded slowly, thinking. I didn't know much about Greece or Politics. Liz didn't know much about Astronomy or Engineering, my two fields of choice, but that didn't mean she couldn't ask.
"What about you? How was stuff?" She asked.
"Had to translate an hour long documentary from Russian to English today. My boss waits until the last minute to do it before the rush tomorrow. That's why I'm a dead man walking, ΡΡΠΎΡ Π°ΠΌΠ΅ΡΠΈΠΊΠ°Π½Π΅Ρ ΡΡΡΠ°Π»!" She doesn't speak Russian, but she thinks it's kinda hot when I speak it. I indulge her. She puts her hands on my chest and leans her head into it.
"I'm sorry hun, that sucks. Want to head back to sleep?" She asked, already guiding me to our bedroom, past the bathroom.
"Cuddle with me?" I requested, as she turned me around and pushed my butt into the mattress. She smirked to herself as she worked my jeans off for me. I could do it myself, but sue me, a beautiful woman wants to do it. I am not going to deprive her of that. She sighs like I'm a demanding child and she's a harassed mother, but her smirk gives away her feelings. She eagerly disrobes to her underwear and crawls into bed next to me, I spoon her. There's no sex in it, at least not right now, but her body pressed against mine, a firm ass and a big chest, has its sensuality in anything.
I doze off to the sound of her slow breathing and the smell of her hair, flowery shampoo and the overwhelming HER flooding my nostrils.
What happened next, is not my fault.
I woke up to a wonderful wet sleeve on my dick. I wasn't sure if it was her mouth, I didn't feel a tongue. It wasn't and isn't uncommon for Liz to wake me up like this, get me hard and demand I fuck her through the wall. She had an extreme appetite about these things, demanded so much that a man with lesser self-control might fail where I succeeded. Not bragging, just how she is. In high school I'd been concerned with lasting a while in bed, so I practiced and got myself some stamina. That paid off, but even that wasn't good enough to sate her lusts.
I might have to be hard at a moments notice. Ready to punish or reward her whenever she demanded. And it was a demand. Oh, sure, I was the Dom, but when she begged me to bend her over the bathroom sink while she looked at me in the mirror, I wondered who was really in charge. How much more I could give, I wasn't sure, but was always eager to find out.
Which is why I opened my eyes and rocked my hips forward into her cunt from behind. Her leg had looped backward around mine, she'd kicked my boxers down with her foot, and her panties were pulled to the side. Otherwise, we were as we'd been when I checked out. She was biting her fist as I slowly screwed her from behind, not making noise as she thought I was still asleep. When my hand made vicious, biting contact with her ass, she knew I was up, in more ways than one.
"Fuck me!" She said almost immediately, pulling her first from her mouth and cupping one of her tits, squeezing it as I entered and retreated hard, in and out, in and out.
"Planning on it." I grunted, my hand that had spanked her grabbing her chin and forcing her face to me, kissing her full lips and making her suck on my finger. She did, eagerly, giving me more and more. By now, I'd doubled my pace, and her twat muscles were clamping down in orgasm. She moaned, squirted a little, and shook all over. I fucked her through it. She must've been fucking me for a while to come that quick. Not that she was hard to please, but, she was a woman. Takes them time, you know.
