She sat on the other side of the couch, her face crumpled with distain as she stared at him. Her mind was a blur of emotion as she watched him pay more attention to the football game on the television screen than he did her. She sighed, though he ever noticed her unease. It wasn't even that she was upset at him wanting to watch the game. She was frustrated that he was no longer actively engaging with her. A month ago, she would've sat down on the couch just to have him pull her into his lap. He may have been watching the game and she may have been scrolling through facebook on her phone, but they would've been connected.
She got up and huffed, she knew what the problem was, but she didn't know how she could fix it. Claiming that he didn't pay attention to her anymore would not only start an argument, but it would be a lie. She knew that he still felt for her. Things had just gotten a little stale lately as they adjusted into a more constant phase of their relationship.
The thought brought a grimace to her face as she got up and walked into the kitchen. The honeymoon stage of their relationship was definitely over. Granted, it was nice having that comfortable, seemingly limitless love that came with having someone accept you for who you are, but then again, that fire that originally been there seemed to be cooling. Again, she fought with what to do with the conundrum.
"Grab me a beer while you're in there, babe?" he yelled from the other room. He asked kindly, his voice far from the demeaning, disrespectful tone that a lot of women had to deal with, but she still found herself infuriated.
Babe. The word alone made her skin crawl. It wasn't a term of endearment. It wasn't a cute little pet name. It was just babe. It was what every other average male on the face of the planet called his significant other and she felt rage wash over her, heating her skin as a scowl scrunched her face. He could call her baby, he could call her sweetheart. Hell, he could call her pooky for all she cared, but never babe. She wouldn't allow them to dissolve into the ordinary. She wouldn't allow that flame that had heated their hearts and bedroom to sizzle down.
She stormed out of the kitchen and into the bedroom. Her boyfriend felt the wake of her fury and sprang up from the couch instantly afraid of what he had done to enrage her so. He caught up to find the bedroom door closed and locked. Fear tingled up within his belly. What could she possibly be mad at?
"Sweetie?" he called out hesitatingly. He could hear the dresser drawers slamming and her muffled grunts from behind the door. "Babe, what's going on? Tell me what's wrong, please?"
There was that word again. She growled at the sound of its tauntingly average portrayal of their affection. She vowed to give him reason to never use that word again. Shedding her jeans and t-shirt, she replaced her everyday underwear with lingerie. To be specific, a lacy black bra and a matching g string that went with it. On a whim, she pulled a translucent black blouse from her closet and bothered with only the bottom three buttons. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed that all her assets her on display with the blouse being a tease at complete nakedness.
She opened the door with her fierce expression still on display. She heard his breath hitch, saw his eyes go wide and frantically take in every detail. Reaching back, she grabbed hold of the clasp holding her long brown trusses and pulled, yanking the locks free to tumble over her back and shoulders. The scowl returned as she recognized the look in his face. She saw lust but she desired the look of need in those eyes of his.
"Damn, baby," he coughed. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but I approve."
She cocked an eyebrow and a sinister smile played along her lips. He said baby. "No touching," she commanded as she pushed him back down the hallway and into the living room. "You're going to do as I say and do it immediately without complaints."
"Of course," he complied. Although he didn't like the idea of not being able to touch, he noted the sheer determination in her eyes and thought better than to argue. "Anything you want, babe."
She shuddered in disgust, an uncomfortable shiver running down her spine. Grabbing a chair from the dining room table, she ordered him to sit. He sat and watched as she turned the tv off and walked into the kitchen to start rummaging through the drawers. With a purr of delight, she padded back into the living room where he sat with a roll of yellowing packing tape in her hand.
Her voice was heated as she ordered him to strip. He did so, but all the while nervously eyeing the roll of tape she toyed with in her hands. Sitting back down he looked up at her expectantly, his nude form now on display for her.
"What now?" he tentatively asked.
She bit her lip and sauntered over to the chair. She eased onto his lap, straddling his legs and allowing him to enjoy the heat of her core along his bared manhood. "I'm angry, honey," she purred, reveling in the anxious look that played over his face. The sweetness in her voice did anything but mirror the fury that edged along her face. "So we're going to play a little game. You get to sit real still and deal with it while I release all my frustrations. If you move, you'll be punished. If you touch, you'll be punished."
