What a day! It seemed like I was the only one with a brain in the whole fucking place. Every little problem became mine and the fact that I had my own work to do didn't seem to matter. I walked into the apartment, took off my jacket and dropped my briefcase on the floor.
I heard music in the bedroom: soft pop. "Angie left the radio on, again," I muttered to myself as I moved down the hallway to the bedroom. Reaching the door, I was stopped dead in my tracks.
Angie was lying on the bed, propped up on a pile of what must be every pillow in the house. Her oriental satin robe lay open, revealing her body underneath. I leaned against the door frame, my shitty day vanishing at the same rate as the rising of my cock.
Angie is beautiful. When I look at her, I see the 14 year-old girl with whom I fell in love over 30 years ago. Her hair is a soft brown. If I look closely enough, I can spot the odd grey hair, but not at this distance. It is pulled back into a sloppy bun, the way she puts in up for a bath that has nothing to do with getting clean. Her eyes, a soft green-blue, are smoldering. They burn a hole into me, clear to my core. Around them, the slightest laugh lines, reminding me that we are not the kids we were when we met. There is a lifetime of living in those eyes and I feel a slight pang when I realize how much of it I have missed. Her full lips frame beautiful, if not perfect teeth. They are lips that were made for kissing and currently decorate her beautiful face with a Cheshire grin.
My eyes continue to take in the scene. I move down her neck, her shoulders, stopping at her breasts. They are soft and large, topped with smallish, hard, pink nipples. I think about those tits; how they feel to my hands and lips; how amazing the feeling when they are wrapped around my hard cock. Moving down her body, I see her belly partially hidden in her robe. It is her least favorite feature, yet I love it as much as any other part of her body. The soft, smooth curves it gives her are reminiscent of the classical beauties in a Rembrandt. I let my eyes roam to the sides, where her hips flare, then continue down her body.
Her legs are bent slightly, with her feet flat on the bed. She has spread them enough to provide me with a clear view of her most beautiful pussy. It is clean shaven, and I can see the swollen lips, already open and leaking her juices on the bed. She has obviously been like this for a little while. Knowing her, she could not wait for me to get home and started without me. The damp spot on the sheet confirms my suspicions.