Alone and a week before my 25th birthday, with strawberry blonde hair, I looked out the window through my emerald green eyes, my hands pulling at the soft chiffon drapes. I knew you'd be home soon and my slim body was aching with desire. It had been a long time since our last encounter and I couldn't wait to feel you deep inside once more. Still lingering on my mind, was the last moment I tasted you, your lips pressed hard against mine, all over too soon in the morning rush to carry out our menial tasks with haste.
Remembering your sweet scent from your cologne on me, I pulled the chiffon back, and opened the balcony doors to feel the cool air against my skin. It was a beautiful night, clear and quiet with only some muffled laughter from the nearby taverns. The sudden exposure to the outside heightened my desire as I felt the breeze touch my thighs and creep up towards my pale pink panties. I sighed and moved back to the table where the empty wine glasses were waiting to be filled with the delightfully crisp dry Verdejo. I looked at the clock.
You're stuck again another night late at the office.
Residing myself to a night of trashy television, I regretfully put the wine back in the fridge and sauntered into the bedroom. I'd forgotten how good it felt to slide into the clean dark sheets. With only a little vest top covering my young perky breasts, I rolled onto my side, the moonlight reflecting off my alabaster skin and I fell into a soft sleep.
Knowing there was a beautiful young woman waiting for you, you threw your keys on the counter, and hastily undid your belt, hearing the buckle click as it slid open onto the floor. Your pressed grey suit trousers fell, and you ripped off your shirt, leaving it lifeless on the cold ceramic tiles.
At the bedside, you stopped for a moment, looking at her innocence, and how her hair fallen softly across your pillow. Usually this would drive you mad, but today you wanted nothing more than to wrap her hair up in your hands and pull her close.