i miss u
The text appeared in tiny pixilated letters on her cell screen.
"You have no idea," she whispered, clicking the reply button. It had only been two days, but it felt like weeks already. Jay's presence in each day was a force -- powerful and overwhelming. While he was away at camp with his students, she -- normally driven, energetic, optimistic -- suddenly felt she had nothing to do but sit and wait.
As she texted a message in return, her mind wandered back to the night before he left. The memory of his strong hands, his body on top of her sped her heartbeat up. As she flushed, warmth spreading from her center, she placed her palm flat on the skin between the two soft mounds of her breasts. It was cool against the red skin.
They had sat in the tub together as the water slowly cooled, talking of nothing sexual. The trip. A concert she wanted to go to. Food. His students. The lessons she was teaching that week. How many concerts she wanted to go to. The dog going to the vet. In retrospect, she marveled at the comfort and peace she felt with this man, naked and vulnerable, but totally unaware of it. It took so little to snap them into a totally different reality, though. They dealt so easily with one another after these seven years of marriage. He seemed to know what she needed before she knew herself, and there was never anything but a reassuring contentment to their actions -- whether those actions were of the everyday or out-of-this-world hot variety. They switched between the two elements of life seamlessly. He need only lean forward and put his mouth on hers to waken something far less "comfortable" within her. And he had. That mouth -- it had a strange power over her, she knew. His lips, impossibly soft, fit hers perfectly, and her body always responded to them without thought or premeditation, as instinctive and natural a response as a hungry animal's reaction to an easy meal.
She wondered what he was doing at that moment. Wrangling eighth grade boys into their bunks, no doubt. She sighed. While she hated for him to be away, the thought of his patience with them, his kindness to those kids who needed him, the joy he took from them (whether he admitted it or not), was an attraction in and of itself. It seemed a primordial draw -- a woman's desire to find the man who would best provide for her children. Not that she had any desire for a baby -- she was fascinated only with the act that created one.
She counted up the hours she would have to wait for his return. It was a childish and pointless activity, she knew, but opened the light at the end of the tunnel. Twenty-four hours until this time tomorrow, another eight to sleep, eight to work... Forty. He would be home with her in forty hours. Surely she could last that long. She drifted off to sleep on his pillow, the memory of how he had filled her the previous night filling her mind.
The next two days were not her best as a teacher, to say the least. She seemed constantly behind herself. Words flew from her mind just as she opened her mouth to say them. She called students by their classmates' names. Finally, the last bell rang on Friday afternoon.
He was just stepping out of the car when she pulled into the drive. She knew his huge grin was mirrored in her own face. Just seeing him through the glass of her windshield raised her skin in goosebumps. She jumped out of the car and ran, crashing into him. He wrapped his arms around her and just stood that way, fondling her hair, for a full minute.
When he finally kissed her, she thought she would melt under the pleasure of it. With his lips, he pressed her backward into the garage, closing the door. By the time they had entered the dining room, where the dogs jumped wildly around them, they had peeled off a layer of clothes. Their hands were frantic on each other, hungry. She felt a trail of electricity follow wherever he touched.
His parted lips above her face compelled her to answer with pressure behind her own. She felt driven by a spinning centrifuge inside of her. She wanted more than to kiss him; she wanted to consume him, and the fervor behind his own lips echoed that desire. She pressed her body against him, and could feel the hardness behind the zipper of his pants rising. She rotated her pelvis against it, felt her own wet panties slip away slightly, reluctantly from her body. He moaned against her lips and pressed her even closer to him, trembling.
She brought her palms slowly, deliberately down his bare back, anxious suddenly to slow the pace of their progress. He lowered his forehead to her shoulder, bringing his own hands down to cup her ass. With a gentle squeeze, he agreed.
He pulled away to hold her at arm's length. His eyes devoured her, top to bottom. They held the strange mix of love and lust that she knew belonged exclusively to the two of them. He ran his hands down her arms to grasp both of hers and pulled her into the bedroom. Shutting the door against the rowdy canines, he pulled her dress over her head, leaving her in a black cotton thong, thin red bra and black heels. He playfully pushed her backward onto the bed.
He slowly began to work her over, kissing lightly her shoulders, one at a time, moving down her arms. His light kisses alternated with flicks of his tongue. His hands became feathers and that light touch accompanied the work of his mouth, so wispy as to almost be imperceptible, unexpected and sudden on her cheek, her thigh, the bottoms of her feet. He intentionally avoided any contact with her most sensitive areas, refusing to remove her undergarments. She arched her back to his teasing, moaning and twisting her body to try to trick him into brushing a nipple, her clit. Periodically, he let his pants rub against her, and she felt the hardness fighting against them, but he pushed her hands back onto the bed when she tried to touch him.
"Did I slow that down enough for you?" he whispered gruffly.
She responded with a sudden movement upward, pulling his body to take her place. Though she never could have forced him, he followed her suggestion and watched as she unzipped his pants and pulled them down around his ankles. The line of his erection was a clear vertical pole extending from his reclining body. Watching it throb with his heartbeat, measure for measure in line with the throb in her own clit, she forgot the languid pace she had tacitly requested earlier, and he smiled as he recognized the appetite in her eyes. She pulled his briefs down to his hips roughly and swallowed his pulsing cock in the same motion.
