Coming through the door you are weary, your footsteps drag and starting as dull thuds approaching I hear them lighten into staccato taps as your destination comes into sight. I hear you easily from where I sit waiting inside the doorway. I have been counting the moments until you returned to me again, the days all too slowly becoming hours then the hours to minutes.
Worn from travelling so long and far, work dragging you away from me again as they are won't to do; you have finally come home to me.
I once toyed with the idea of waiting inside for you to seek me out when you arrived but just waiting those long agonising moments as you sorted your keys, placed the key in the lock and then finally, over what seemed excruciating millennia, turned the handle and came inside - those moments were ones where I could already be in your arms.
Now I pace behind the doorway until I can hear you just outside, I don't even try and hide my excitement at having you at last in my arms as I fling open the door and throw myself at you.
Your eyes, tired though they are, light up at the sight of me in my jeans and t-shirt. Large breasts barely constrained within my bra are straining against the material and your arms wrap tightly around me gathering me to you, the adoration mutual. Your hand goes to my breast, thumb stroking across my nipple - it grows harder with the caress and I sigh, the place I keep just for you beginning to ache with a dull throb. My hands seek out the familiar planes of your body, every shape and contour known to my fingertips as you bow your head to me and at last we kiss.
Silken lips dance across each other, lovingly at first then more and more teasing as we revel in the ability to once again touch, feel and taste. Your tongue is firm across my lips, prying them open insistently and it is not long before I yield, opening myself up to you and pressing my body tightly against yours. Your thigh slips between mine and the pressure between my legs, firmly rubbing my kitten as we kiss, is enough to make me force you away for I know if I give in we shall never make it too what I have planned.
The smell of you is enough to drive me mad with desire and taking your bag I attempt to usher you inside, you deliberately drag your feet a smile on your face as I tug on your arm trying to pull you into the house. Our house.
Dumping your bag without ceremony in the hallway I slip behind you and pull your jacket down over your shoulders, it too receives brutal treatment as I throw it towards your case. You laugh and chide me, my head bowing in admonishment but we both know it's just a game, moments later we are laughing.
Skipping lightly through the house I beat you to the bathroom and turn on the taps, topping up the bath I have run a little earlier with steaming hot water the smell of cloves and blood orange wafting through the air. Waiting spoils the fun and as you enter the bathroom I begin to unbutton your shirt, ignoring your hands as they explore my body, your lips on my neck and shoulders. My nimble fingers slip to your belt and it is easily undone, next I kneel before you and unlace your shoes, helping you step out of them before peeling your pants downwards until you stand before me in your briefs.
Bearing a grin you reach out for me, seeking to waylay my plans and again I evade you, slipping behind you as my thumbs hook into your waist band and I divest you of your underwear. An old friend awaits me when I return to face you, your cock thick and strong saluting me as I smile cat-like at the greeting.
Stepping into the bath you reach out and squeeze my ass. It is fleshy and full, in the way that only a woman's can be without appearing saggy, and the feel of your warm hand upon my flesh excites me and sets my skin tingling. As you lower yourself into the steamy water I perch on the edge of the bath, take up the sponge and soaping it up begin to rub you down, my hands working in circular motions across your shoulders. Neither of us says a word as I work my magic on your tired flesh, across your back and arms until I slip around to face you.
"Hi there."
A greeting that means more than it says, your hand reaches out and strokes along my cheek the water from your arm dripping across my shirt. I gasp a little at the heat of the water through the material, my already pert nipples harden so much that they begin to throb and I raise my fingers to them, rubbing gently to ease the ache my eyes tied to yours. Your lopsided grin brings me back to myself and I lower my hands, reaching again for the soap as I lather up your chest and rinse you down.
The corner of my eye catches movement and I look down into the bathwater, your hand is clasped firmly around your shaft and you are stroking yourself off. I watch a while longer, the sight stirring me so that I have to physically shake myself and move away.
I wash your hair for you, massaging your scalp and taking my time, loving the fact that I am looking after you. Taking care of my man the way only his woman can. Rinsing you off I splash more water across me and the t-shirt clings still more to my full breasts, jeans splattered with water as I bring you your towel. Rising from the water you tuck a stray strand of my long black hair back into place, the business like pony tail a little messed up from my tasks. The towel I hold out to you is warm, heated until its perfect and I watch avidly as you wrap it around your waist.
I have always been fascinated by the cuts in a man's hips, that perfect place at the bottom of his abdomen and I reach out my fingers now and trace them along this line barely holding back the desire to flick out my tongue and swipe it across your flesh. Seeing something in my eyes you grin wickedly and let the towel fall to the floor, my eyes straying once again to our cock of their own volition.
Crooking your finger to me you summon me forward and I take a step closer unable to resist you. With a deliberate smile you point at the bath tub, still full of water and incline your head just so.
