Another short and sexy story.(I hope)&& Don't forget to rate, comment or send me feedback however you like. It is greatly appreciated. Enjoy
. :)
~ExR
*
"Yeah, looks like I'm gonna be late coming home tonight, babe." My husband sighed, not happy at all about the news himself. I was calm though. Shit happens. "Terry gave me a shit load of paperwork to go through. I just need to get
most
of it done then I'll be home in a flash."
"That's okay Keefe. You want me to make you a plate of food and put it in the fridge for when you get here? Or are you gonna order out or something?"
"I'm gonna order out but thanks anyway." He replied flatly.
It was my turn to sigh dismally. "I'll see you when you get home then honey. Love you."
"Hey Mason?"
"Yeah?"
"I'll make it up to you when I get home." He said huskily.
I smiled, biting my bottom lip. Then I replied, "I'll be waiting."
"Love you, bye." He hung up.
I hung up the home phone with another less-than-content sigh, and trudged into the kitchen to put the leftovers of dinner away.
After that, I decided I'd just grab a beer and lay down for a while. As I lie on the bed with a cold one in hand, I can't help but to let my mind wander and think back upon my life until now. As it often does when I have time to think nowadays.
At age 32, I'm happy to say that my life has turned out very well. I'm a brunette, 6'3 tall man with a lean body. My face and body are blessed, as I can still pass for, at least, 27 or 28.
I'm also blessed with a wonderful husband. Keefe is taller than I, standing at a decent 6'7 and was once as lean as I, but has only put on a few pounds. And, to be honest, I like that he is just slightly meatier than me. I like the feel of his weight against me.
He has a ginger crop of hair that he gets from his Irish roots. Me, I'm English and French.
I work at a small law firm on Main Street in my home town in Eastern Massachusetts (In which I still reside in with Keefe).
My husband Keefe also works in this town at the New England Coffee factory; like he has been for the last 18 years.
We live in this suburb of Boston with Bostonian pride. Him and I are dedicated Bruins and Celtics fans. He isn't into baseball much, Which I think is just plain crazy! So I drag his ass to a home game at Fenway whenever I can. Haha.
We both share an aversion of football but still root on the Patriots on in spirits. We still get out and hang in Southie sports bars every once in a while with friends. Other than that, we much rather enjoy each other's company.
However... Keefe and I have caught a snag in our love life.
I open my eyes, forgetting that I had closed them, and down the rest of my now warm beer and put it in the trash. I strip down to my boxers and climb back into bed and slip back into my reverie about Keefe and I.
Lately I've noticed that we've lost the spark you used to have in bed. I mean the sex is still satisfying but we used to have such an energy and thrill in bed. We used to go all out, for hours on end. But that seems to be absent nowadays. Our sex is methodical. Like a boring formula on how to reach a climax without really savoring your lover, or sharing intimacy.
I remember the first day I met him, there was a spark between us that caught fire within seconds.
I was 20, he was 24. I was a chaperone of an 8th grade field trip to the New England Coffee Factory & Facilities. He worked as an employee in the actual factory we were getting a tour of.