A Working Marriage 1

The drive home had not been a pleasant one. It wasn't even the traffic. It had been a long week. Erik had spent so much overtime that I'd barely been able to see him. Well, that wasn't quite true. He came home at a "normal" hour on Tuesday, but he spent all night on the phone, working on the computer. On Wednesday I tried to just let him know I missed my husband, but somehow that became a shouting match. When it all boiled over, he came back to our bedroom and apologized for being so insensitive, even though we both knew it wasn't just his fault. After he had calmed me down some, and said countered what he knew I was thinking.

"Allie, you're my wife, I'm not trying to avoid you."

Did he have to be so calm?

"I know," I sniffed. "But sometimes it doesn't feel like you even live here anymore."

"Yeah, well, when this is over, I'll make it up to---" He looked up, the phone was ringing. I didn't see him the rest of the night.

I replayed that scene a couple of times on the way home. It'd be over soon, just stop focusing on it. I came inside leaving my shoes at the door, (yeah my calves looked great in them, but I was so happy to get my feet free). Mail call, what did we have today? Bill, bill, Second notice (How the hell did that happen?), birthday card. The card was for Erik, half a month late. Nice gesture though.

I was not looking forward to another dinner alone, but I didn't really have an option tonight: My best friend Jen was busy; her kids were having some sports thing. Darlene across the street was out of town. An unexpected sigh escaped from my lips. Did every one of my girlfriends have a better social life than me? I thought there might be something on. Maybe that Lopez/Gere movie . . . .

The sound of the door opening interrupted my train of thought. Even though he was home, I thought it was better to not bother him too much or he'd be up all night, but he'd better at least have dinner with me or else...

He came into the kitchen, up from behind me, "Well honey, don't worry," I said, "I won't bother you tonight, but I don't feel like cooking and I know you don't have the time. How's about Chinese?"

I got no response. Instead all I heard was the thud of his briefcase hitting the ground and footsteps coming closer. His hands wrapped around my waist, the rest of him pressed against my back. I felt him rest his chin on my shoulder.

"Does this mean you've got the night off?" I asked him, I couldn't keep the amusement out of my voice. He pressed closer against me. His right hand pressed lightly against my stomach. His left thumb pressed against my chin nudging my head sideways, and a little up. He pressed into me and held me there, just on the forceful side of gentleness. It was nice, if a bit over eager. We parted, and he exhaled deeply. His breath tickled my neck.

"Missed you too sweetie." I almost giggled. He kissed me again, deeper this time. Just a little brush of his tongue against my lips slipped in. When he pulled away this time, I saw his eyes, and they almost scared me. They were wild, just..... uncontrolled. He breathed deeply, and I swear I heard a growl. Then his arms tightened, and I flew upwards. I was being carried, rather unceremoniously I might add, out of the kitchen.

"Erik."

Nothing. No response.

"Erik put me down!"

He said nothing and proceeded carry me upstairs.

"Erik?"

I felt a small chill.

He kicked open the door to our bedroom and tossed me onto the bed. His shirt was quickly unbuttoned and thrown onto the dresser. He crawled over to me, seeming to be a lot bigger than I remembered. He loomed over me and I could feel his eyes boring into mine. His hand gently touched my breast. I'd missed that. He kissed me again, gently, almost chaste. His hand ripped open my shirt, literally: the buttons flew everywhere. For a second I wondered when he'd gotten that strong, but then I felt him slip my bra over my breasts. The cool air began to tighten my skin when his lips closed around my nipple. I gasped. I remember my back arching, pushing my chest towards him. His tongue, lips, fingers danced around my chest. Yes! Oh lord, YES! My skin was on fire. I shuddered, and he pulled back, again. I sat upwards, and he pulled my bra over my head and off. He unzipped my skirt, and I stopped him. There would be no way he would get all the fun. I shimmied my skirt over my knees, and then threw it at his face. He grinned and did his best to fake annoyance. Unzipping his pants was the next item. I started slowly, teasing just a little. I let a stray finger slip over his crotch. He stood, and kicked his pants off. I knelt on the bed and waited for him to come closer. His boxers, he pulled off real slow, but when he turned towards me I could see how ready he was. He knelt across from me and smirked, making me wonder what he had in mind with me. I reached out and wrapped my fingers around the head of his cock. His reaction surprised me. His eyes tightened, and he pushed me down until I was stuck staring at the ceiling. What the hell was that? I really didn't have much time to ponder before he surged into view above me. I felt two fingers stroking at the outside lips of my pussy.

"Sweetie wha--" I couldn't finish.

His lips were on mine again. His fingers were imitating his tongue, and were probing a little deeper. His eyes were right at mine, just an inch or two away, wide open and wild. He kept fingering me, stroking my clit. Then he just stopped cold. Again.

"No, not, don't stop. Not now." I whined.

I felt completely naked, this giant figure of maleness, loomed over me and I was powerless in its presence. His fingers were moving. I felt the tips of his fingers slide under and into my panties. I was dripping wet, how did this happen so quickly? His lips were on mine again, his tongue slipped over mine. We kept kissing, his fingers still moving deftly in and around my pussy.

I gasped, I moaned, I writhed. His legs parted mine, when the heck did he take my panties off? I felt him pressing against my lips. He moved, and he was already buried to the hilt.

"Oh, FUCK ," I screamed.

He began to move, slowly at first. Stroking into me, moving inside me. I felt so full . He filled a depth in me I had forgotten. His hand was stroking my clit. I bit into his shoulder.

"Oh fuck, oh lord, oh..."

My mouth worked by itself.

"More, oh fuck me. Harder."

My legs locked around his back, his teeth dug into my neck. Oh lord, I felt it. My fingers raked across his back, he kissed me again, our tongues attacking each other. My breathing was ragged, I was afraid of hyperventilating. He kept pounding, hard, fast, and deep. We pressed together again and again. It was coming. I was coming.

"Oh Shit, oh. Oh fuck. Oh, Erik. Erik, more. Erik, oh SHIIIIIIT."

I shattered. I was floating, I was blind, I was deaf, but I felt him. I fell back into me, and felt him shooting into me, breathing erratically. We stayed that way for close to a minute. He rolled beside me and exhaled. I snuggled into him, his arm wrapped around my shoulders and pulled me closer.

"I missed you." He spoke for the first time today.

"I can tell," I giggled. I can't believe I giggled.

"Oh, and sweetie?"

"What dear?" I asked, curling into his chest.

"Chinese will be fine."

***********

This is my first piece of erotica, as well as my first piece of publicly submitted fiction. I know it's short, but I'm working on a follow-up to this piece. Thanks to Educatedidiot and Roadieeeeeee for all their help.