Instagram ellopiageenos: you leave no choice

12/23/14

you leave no choice


 “I was waiting for you,” he says softly, his eyes dark gray and luminous.“That’s . . . that’s such a lovely thing to say.”“It’s true. I didn’t know it at the time.” He smiles his shy smile.“I’m glad you waited.”“You are worth waiting for” He tips my chin up with his finger, leans down, and kisses me tenderly.
“So are you.” I smile. “Though I feel I like I cheated. I didn’t have to wait long for you at all.”He grins. “Am I that much of a prize?”“Υou are the state lottery, the cure for cancer, and the three wishes from Aladdin’s lamp all rolled into one.”He raises a brow.
“When will you realize this?” I scold him. “You were a very eligible bachelor. And I don’t mean all this.” I wave dismissingly at our plush surroundings. “I mean in here.” I place my hand over his heart, and his eyes widen. My confident, sexy husband has gone, and I’m facing my lost boy. “Believe me,  please,” I whisper and clasp his face, pulling his lips to mine. He groans, and I don’t know if it’s hearing what I’ve said or his usual primal response. I claim him, my lips moving against his, my tongue invading his mouth.When we’re both breathless, he pulls away, eyeing me doubtfully.
“When are you going to get it through your exceptionally thick skull that I love you?” I ask, exasperated.He swallows. “One day,” he says.This is progress. I smile and am rewarded with his answering shy smile.
He tugs my chin, releasing my lip from my teeth and runs his index finger down the front of my T-shirt, down my sternum, between my breasts, down my stomach, and over my belly to the hem.“You won’t be needing this in the bath,” he whispers, and gripping the hem of my T-shirt in both hands, slowly pulls it up. “Lift your arms.”I comply, not taking my eyes off his, and he drops my T-shirt on the floor.“I thought we were just having a bath.” My pulse quickens.
“I want to make you good and dirty first. I’ve missed you, too.” He leans down and kisses me.“Shit, the water!” I struggle to sit up, all post-orgasmic and dazed.He doesn’t release me.“the bath!” I gaze down at him from my prone position across his chest.He laughs. “Relax—it’s a wet room.” He rolls over and kisses me quickly. “I’ll switch off the faucet.”He climbs gracefully off the bed and strolls into the bathroom. My eyes greedily follow him all the way. Hmm . . . my husband, naked and soon to be wet. My inner goddess licks her lips salaciously and gives me her well-fucked grin. I bound out of bed.

We sit at opposite ends of the bath, which is very full—so full that whenever we move, water laps over the side and splashes to the floor. It’s very decadent. Even more decadent is he washing my feet, massaging the soles, pulling gently on my toes. He kisses each one and gently bites my little toe.“Aaah!” I feel it—there, in my groin.“Like that?” he breathes.“Hmm,” I mumble incoherently.He starts massaging again. Oh, this feels good. I close my eyes.




He kisses my big toe, releases my left foot, and picks up my right before beginning the massage process again. His fingers are so strong and supple, I relax again. I close my eyes and let his fingers work their magic on my feet.I gape at myself in the full-length mirror, not recognizing the vixen that stares back at me. 
















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