this blog entry contains sexual content. if you are offended by such things, hit the back button now: you'll be happier. this is a continuation of the quiet series.
i’m working from home today but need to participate in this conference call. i already know that i’m going to call in using my mobile phone, use the headset and largely not have to think for those 30 minutes. i’m just getting out of the shower and throw on a robe when you get home from shopping.
we mouth “hi” to one another as i listen in and check my e-mail for a few minutes, making sure i pay just enough attention to the headset in case i need to jump in with anything when a movement catches my eye.
you’ve walked out of the shower yourself, wearing just a smile. and sitting in a bathrobe as i am, it’s impossible for you not to notice the effect your smile is having on me—and it’s an impressive effect, at that. definitely impressive enough to put my phone on mute just before a strangled cry almost escapes my lips.
and that’s when you flash me that smile of yours. you know the one—full of suggestion and promise, the “i have a secret” smile of yours, the smile that always sets me back on my heels.
and then you smirk as my robe parts from below the belt through no conscious effort of my own. already i can feel a bead of sweat running from my temple as i look upon you. “magnificent,” i mouth.
but you aren’t done. o no: you’re just getting started. and i know from your smirk that i’m in for a very, very interesting morning.
for just a moment of weakness, i almost regret all of those other times i tormented you…almost.
you pad lightly into the bedroom, where you threw one of the bags you brought from your shopping excursion. i can’t help staring as you leave on tiptoe, and i know the only reason you’re doing it is b/c you know i love what that does for your legs when you walk.
there’s the somewhat surprising sound of scissors cutting hard plastic that i can barely make out, try as i might. i know i could get up, but don’t dare. the idea of you wearing nothing but that smirk is so intoxicating that i can’t even think about moving.
you come back out now and move one of the chairs directly in front of me, then disappear back into the bedroom. from that i can already infer that you’ll be putting on some kind of a show for me, and when that realization hits, it’s a good thing that i’m still seated or i might lose balance from the rapid re-direction of blood.
you’re gone for a while this time, maybe a few minutes, when you return, clad in your burgundy silk robe and a pair of slippers. the sash is drawn tightly around your waist, revealing nothing of yourself to my greedy, insistent eyes.
so when you sit down on the chair that you placed before me and rest each leg upon the arm rests, you command my complete and undivided attention. i know that just behind that almost gossamer-like bit of the robe that remains in place rests your feminine essence. i admire the shape of your thighs as you slowly tense the muscles in first the right, then the left leg as the slipper hangs precariously off your toes.
when you slip one hand beneath that fabric panel and your back arches suddenly—now that was cruel. i can already feel perspiration running down my neck, become aware that my breathing has become much shallower. and then you give me that knowing smile again and it’s all i can do not to reach down. i don’t, but you aren’t making it very easy at all. and i know it’s going to become even more difficult soon.
with your other hand, you slowly slide first the right, then the left part of your rob aside, finally granting me the view that i’ve been hoping for. your hand is just grazing the center of your desire. not even two yards away, but the unspoken rules of this game are very clear: i can look all i want—i just can’t touch.
and that’s why it almost drives me out of my head when your free hand reaches back behind you and reveals what on an previous decade might self-consciously have been called a “marital aid”: a rabbit.
and it’s bright green.
to be continued…later. ;>
ed



