It's about 9:00pm, and she's in the bedroom of her apartment. She's just gotten home from work and is utterly exhausted. It's only Tuesday, but it's been a tough week already since she also worked most of the weekend. A glass of wine sits on the bureau, and she sips it as she removes her jewellery. She sighs. Don is coming back from his two week business trip tonight. He's been driving all over the Midwest, and depending on what time his meeting ended this afternoon, and what time he actually got on the road, he made it clear that he planned on coming straight to her place if he could get there before midnight. She feels guilty when she hopes that his meeting ran late, or that maybe he hit traffic. She has missed him terribly but knows he'll be horny as hell, and God forgive her, she is just not in the mood tonight.
Her fingers are on the top button of her suit jacket when she hears the key in the front door. Shit! She swears under her breath, and then curses herself for feeling this way. But damn it, she is tired.
"Carol," he yells out as the door slams shut. "Where are you, Hon?"
"In the bedroom," she calls back. She hears him place what she supposes is his briefcase on the coffee table along with his keys. The change in the sound of his footsteps lets her know he has now entered the kitchen. "Ahhhh....that's my girl," he says, and she assumes he has seen the open bottle of wine. A cabinet door opens, then bangs shut. Glunk, glunk, glunk sounds follow as he pours himself a glass.
"Hey, aren't you gonna greet me? It's only been two weeks," his voice gets louder as he approaches the bedroom. There he is, leaning against the doorway, head cocked to one side, cute little grin on his face. The right side of his upper lip always rises slightly higher than the other when he smiles. For some reason, this is one of those things that makes him totally irresistible to her. She walks over to him, stands on her toes and kisses his cheek.
"Hey you. How was the drive?" She asks as she turns to walk back to the bureau. She takes two steps before she feels a hand on her elbow.
"Um, hello. Excuse me," he says. "Is that all I get?" She turns back to him and wraps her arms around his chest, placing her head against his shoulder. His arms embrace her.
"That's a little nicer. But this is even better," he teases, as the hand without the glass of wine moves to her bottom and squeezes. She jumps, letting out a tiny squeak, then looks up at him.
"I'm sorry, Don. I am just so fucking stressed and tired. Can you wait until morning?"
He gives her his best pouty, little boy face, and she giggles. Oh, he is adorable, she thinks. She keeps looking at him, loving to gaze into his eyes, big and green and surrounded by thick black lashes. Damn, she wonders. Why do men always get the most beautiful eyelashes? She pulls away. Back at the bureau, she takes another sip of wine. She starts to undo her suit jacket, then pauses. Shit! It suddenly dawns on her what she is wearing underneath. This morning, she had dressed with all the best intentions of seducing him, throwing on her sexiest pair of underwear. Black low-cut bra, matching lace panties, garters, stockings....the whole works. Over that she wore a suit. Just a fitted jacket that buttoned to a v-neck and didn't require a blouse beneath it, along with a tight skirt. But then today turned out to be as crappy as yesterday - employees fighting and threatening to quit, clients complaining - a real day from hell. And now, she could not get herself in "the mood" no matter how hard she tried.
"Hey...earth to Carol." His voice breaks through her daze, and she jerks her head towards him. "You've got my favorite suit on. Did you wear that especially for me?" He asks, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively. He leaves the doorway and walks up behind her. She feels his arms wrap around her waist and looks at him in the mirror.
"Come on, Honey. I've missed you." She watches as his head moves, then feels his lips on the back of her neck. "I've thought about you all day," he growls, his breath warming her ear. Still watching in the mirror, she stares as one hand moves over her pubic area, palming it through her skirt, pressing on it as she feels him pushing himself against her bottom. His cock is already hard. The other hand slips under her jacket and cups a breast as he begins to nibble her ear, whispering, "Can't you tell how much I've missed you?" God help her, she loves him more than anything, but she just can't get into this right now.
Wrapping a hand over each of his wrists, she grabs tight. "Don, please, it's been an awful day. I just want to sleep," she explains. In the mirror's reflection, she sees his face. His _expression is one of total disappointment.
He lets go of her. He moves away and gently says, "Sure, Hon. I'll just go take a cold shower." He hangs his head in an exaggerated pose, shuffling along toward the bathroom. Giggling, she tells him to stop being such a martyr.
She hears the door to the bathroom close, and lets out a sigh. She quickly undoes her suit jacket and slips it off. She's about to place it on a hanger when she notices her reflection. Whoa, she thinks. Her movements throughout the day must have changed the position of the bra. Half her aureolas and nipples are exposed. She hears a noise and turns toward the doorway. There's Don, towel around his waist, staring at her.
"Um...sorry, Carol. I was just coming to tell you that there's no soap in the shower." But he cannot hide the lust in his eyes. Within seconds, he is standing in front of her, hands on her face, holding it in place as his mouth covers hers. She has always loved the way he kisses, softly at first, then applying more and more pressure, his tongue making its way around her lips, then into her mouth. She feels herself responding to him, opening her mouth to allow his tongue to circle within and probe more deeply.
But then the phone rings. Don sighs and pulls away. She freezes and listens as the machine picks up. It's one of her employees informing her that she has a family problem and won't be in tomorrow. "Son of a bitch!" She yells, throwing her hands up in the air, then slapping them back down against her thighs. She was hoping to sleep in a little late tomorrow, but that's out of the question now. She plops onto the edge of the bed, hangs her head down and tries to take a few deep breaths. There's movement in front of her. Looking up, she sees Don squatting, holding her glass of wine. Gently, he places a hand on her knee and says, "Here, have some of this." She smiles weakly at him and takes it. She puts it to her lips, throws her head back and gulps down the remaining half a glass. Handing it back to him, she asks if he'd mind getting her some more. "In fact," she says, "bring the whole fucking bottle in here!" He smirks as he gets up. "That's my Honey," she hears him mumble as he walks to the kitchen.
She flings her upper body back and lays down, legs still bent and dangling over the edge of the bed, high-heeled pumps not quite touching the floor. Her skirt rises up quite a bit and her legs spread as she stretches her arms above her head and arches her back, letting out a long, exasperated sigh. She stays in that position, staring up at the ceiling.
"Oh, for Chrissakes, Carol!" She hears. "Don't tease me like this!"
Lifting her head up a bit, she sees Don. He's in the doorway again. The side of the bed she's lying on faces him, and she is sure he can see up her skirt. He confirms this suspicion by whispering one word. "Garters?" She quickly pops back up into a sitting position. Something does not feel quite right though, and she looks down. When she had stretched her arms up before, she must have pulled her tits with them, because now they were sitting on top of the lacy portion of her bra cups, fully exposed and propped up. She looks at the _expression on Don's face and giggles. He still has a towel wrapped around his waist, but now it's sticking out quite a bit down around his crotch. She points and begins to laugh hysterically. She realizes that her silliness is more from exhaustion and stress than from the actual situation at hand, but she cannot control herself. Tears are streaming down her face, and he is looking at her like she has lost her mind.
"Sure, go ahead. Have a good laugh at my expense. It's a real boost to the ego that you find my blue-steel throbber so funny!" Shaking his head, he walks over to the nightstand and puts the bottle of wine down.
"Blue-steel throbber?" She spits out, then laughs even harder. "Oh, Honey...I'm sorry," she says between giggles.
"Sorry, my ass! I'll make you sorry!" And with that, he walks over to where she is sitting, grabs her roughly by the wrists and pulls her to her feet. Her body rubs against him, causing his towel to slide to the floor. With a few swift movements, he yanks the straps of her bra down off her shoulders so that they hang around her elbows, then clasps her wrists within his hands, shoving her arms behind her back. His head falls to her breasts immediately. Jerking her arms again, he causes her back to arch and her tits to tilt up. She whimpers a little from the pain, but is still too shocked to say anything. It has all happened so quickly. "Oh, God!" She cries out, finally finding her voice when his lips clamp down on a nipple. He immediately sucks it to full attention, sliding it in and out of his mouth between his teeth. He tongues it, nips at it and finally bites down on it and tugs hard. Moaning, her hips begin to move, and he grunts as the material of her skirt skims the head of his penis. His mouth moves to her other nipple, and he attacks it just as viciously.
