I lay across your lap as you sit on the living room couch, the TV flickering just out of my sight as you watch one of your favorite crime dramas. It is late in the evening, the end of a very stressful day for me at work and you knew that the moment you came home to find me snapping at you. I picked at everything you said to me all through supper as you sat silently through it, but you had a plan all along....
My long brown hair is now pulled to one side and hanging down the side of my neck as I try to bury my face in the pillow beneath me. The white cotton tank top that seemed so comfortable a few hours ago is now betraying me as it offers no covering on my back, and I feel your hand moving along my back beneath the thin fabric. I never wear a bra at home, allowing my large breasts to hang free, and I can feel them moving slightly beneath me as I squirm over your legs. I can not keep still, and I know you want me that way...
Not long after supper I had followed you into the den, still picking on you for no reason, complaining about nothing and everything at the same time. You looked at me for a long moment as I sat beside you on the couch, still talking as you turned on your show and the opening credits rolled. That first commercial break caught my attention, though, as you grabbed my wrists and pulled me close to you, kissing me hard in mid-sentence, taking my breath away and leaving me looking at you when you finally broke away.
"Here's my problem," you said, looking straight into my eyes as you continued to grasp my wrists. "You haven't been able to talk about or think about anything but yourself in days – it's all been about you and that new job and how miserable you have been. You haven't even given me a thought except as someone to bitch to in days."