Desperation
It has been a long week. Slow, steadily creeping up to the weekend, which I don't even know if I want to arrive. I used to be so excited about our days together, always counting the hours down on a Friday to the two days and three nights of just you and I against the world. We used to spend lazy mornings in bed, enjoying each other's bodies, exploring the curves and dents we assumed we knew so well, till we came across a mole, wrinkle, curve, that seemed new, exciting, unexplored. We used to hurry our chores or errands to get back to the privacy of our room, our playground, our solitude.
These days the daily grind for you at work, and the mundane tasks of a housewife have taken over our lives. We have become a tired old couple, no more midnight romps in the bedroom, or whisperings of sweet nothings in each other's ears, not even the quick glances or slight touches in the passage reminding each other that even though busy we are still there. Clearly, the honeymoon is over.
With washing on the line, and the house spick and span, I decide to retreat to what used to be our little bit of heaven, lift my feet and delve into the escape of a story, hopefully to push my reality of life aside for a few moments.
The more I read, the more my mind wanders. I can't escape this. I can't escape my need for you. The longing for your touch that so easily ignites flames on my soft skin. The feel of your lips on mine, and your tongue exploring the depths of my mouth, kissing me till I no longer have oxygen in my lungs, but only the life force your breath provides.
I try to continue reading, but the words all melt into one another on the page. I put my book down. I know its forbidden, but I wearily sit up, rising to my feet, and head for the forbidden drawer of toys. I know I am not allowed to open it, never mind touch the tools of our love without your permission, but the need to reach climax and let go of the emotions is so intense.
I slowly pull the drawer open, and stare at its contents, not knowing which one to choose to extinguish this burning blaze in my core. I quickly grab the large 7 inch pink vibrator, that you have whipped up a frenzy with so many times. I stand with it in my hands remembering all those blissful occasions. I quickly close the drawer, as if a snake might jump out at me, and head to the bed. I peer at the closed door of our sanctum, waiting for you to burst in and catch me red handed. I know the punishment would be harsh for this transgression. You would probably withhold any for of intimacy, and rub in how dirty I am for pleasing myself.
I push your possible reaction aside and guiltily lift my dress and drop my white panties to my ankles, stepping wearily out of them. This need for just a moment of the oblivion of a climax, and the release of my emotion tension is overpowering my will to obey you. Subservience and submission have become not only a blessing but a curse as well. The impulsive need to fight your authority and be rebellious has been playing in my mind for weeks. If I had to wait for you to give me any physical pleasure I would land up celibate and dead.
I lay down on the bed. I have left the curtains open, not worried about who sees me or not even thinking you might peer in if you pull into our driveway.
