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*
I wonder what she's doing right now. It's 8 p.m. on the East coast, so her conference is over and she'll have eaten dinner by now—probably with Melissa. I know they haven't seen each other lately, so my love will have enjoyed spending time with her friend.
Is she reading about financial management? Although it's her least favorite part of her job, I know she'll do it brilliantly—like everything she does. Partly because she has a hint of OCD, but mostly because she's conscientious. Her ability to concentrate astounds me, but maybe that's because my call letters are ADD. She's also much smarter than I am. She denies it, but we both know it's true.
It's hard not to talk with her for a few days at a time. Years ago we decided not communicate while she's at conferences. Absence makes the heart and body grow fonder. In any case, it's exquisite torture. When she comes home, the sex―and our emotional connection―is stunning.
So I wait. And remember. And breathe. And miss her. And fantasize.
Alone in our bed, I think about the first time we were physically intimate. We'd been together a couple months. She was hesitant because of her history. But I'd been gentle with her, reassuring her that I love her and wasn't going to leave. Then one evening after dinner she took my hand, led me back to our bedroom, and started peeling off my clothes.
"Are you sure?"
She nodded, her brown eyes on mine. Then she carefully removed my bra straps from my shoulders. She cupped my breasts, and then leaned in to bite my shoulder gently. I still wasn't certain, until she kissed me, her mouth hungry. Then I gave in.
She nudged me backwards onto the bed and straddled me, her dark hair hanging over her eyes, breasts swaying with her movement. I grabbed one dark pink nipple in my mouth and the other with my hand, sucking and squeezing. I saw her eyes start to glaze over and her breathing deepen. And then suddenly, without asking or giving any warning, I plunged two fingers deep into her. She gasped in surprise, and then groaned deeply. She met my thrusts over and over until she shuddered and shook on my hand, her juices flowing down my arm and onto my stomach as she came.
I fantasize about her return. Out of thoughtfulness for me, she'll take a taxi to the house so I don't have to pick her up at the airport late at night. She'll try to be quiet when she comes in, but I sleep lightly and will be waiting. I'll hear her in the kitchen and call to her. She'll tell me to shush and go back to sleep, though she knows I won't. I'll stay half-awake until she slides into bed. We'll spoon, my breasts to her back, and fall to sleep, warm in each others arms.
The next morning I'll start nuzzling her neck. Even though she'll be tired after the flight and the weeklong conference, she'll want it as much as I do. I'll kiss behind her ear and down her neck as she murmurs she loves me.
I'll run the tip of my tongue around her earlobe and breathe into her ear. There will be a hitch in her breathing. Then I'll lick the side of her neck and roll her over onto her back.
"I bought something for us."
Her jet lag will give way to intrigue. I'll see anxiety in her eyes too. She doesn't like surprises, so she'll be quiet as I show her the butt plug and a harness I bought while she was gone. She was embarrassed the first time she admitted anal play excited her. Perhaps she'll think I've forgotten. But I love her, so I pay attention. I remember everything.
The plug will make her more anxious than the harness. But she'll take her cue from me. And I'm comfortable with the idea. I've been thinking about both for a long time. I won't use either until we're together though. She and I can learn and explore together. She'll blush—a rare and beautiful sight. We'll have to talk about it as she gets used to the idea. But I know she'll be interested.