She walked into the kitchen and dropped her computer bag on the stool, closing her eyes briefly and inhaling the savory aroma of the dinner he was preparing. It had been a long, hard day. As she exhaled, she consciously let the tension drain out of her shoulders, down her arms. She shook her hands to be rid of it.
He noticed. Looking out the kitchen window, he had seen the slight furrow of her brow as she walked from her car into the house. In the few moments she had been settling herself, he had poured her a glass. He handed it to her now.
"Welcome home, love."
"Thank you." She smiled. He always made her smile. They kissed, sweetly, as their energies shifted from their external worlds and focused on each other. When their lips parted, she bowed her head ever so slightly so that their foreheads touched. His arm circled her, and he placed his palm flat against the small of her back. She felt the gentle pressure of him pulling her in towards himself. She eagerly leaned in and placed her palm on his chest, over his heart. Here, in the warmth of their home, in his arms, she didn't need the façade of emotional armor she usually wore. Here, she was simply his. And he was hers. And the equilibrium of their relationship freed them both.
She felt the energy begin to stir in her core as the warmth of his palm on the small of her back began to tingle. She smiled again, and though their foreheads were still touching, he recognized that smile. If there were any doubt, the low vibration that escaped from deep in her throat removed any uncertainty. She wanted more of his touch.
He pulled away and they looked deep into each other's eyes. She raised an eyebrow, questioning. Was he feeling the same? He smiled that knowing smile. Indeed, he was. She took a deep breath and sighed in anticipation at the possibility of what was to come.
"How long before dinner is ready?" she inquired.
"I just transferred it to the oven. It has to bake for an hour."
"Oh good." She smiled that mischievous smile again and took a long sip of bourbon. The burning warmth as the liquid traveled down her throat made her conscious of what else she'd like to have in her mouth. At this, she leaned in and tenderly kissed that spot on his neck she loved. He tilted his head to give her more access, as his right hand moved from the small of her back to her hip and his left hand raised to mirror the right. He squeezed and pulled his hips into hers. She felt his growing excitement through the thin fabric of her wrap dress.
Instinctively, she raised one leg and placed her foot on the rail of the counter stool, turning out her knee so that her hips could fit more closely to his body. At this, his hands circled her backside. She could feel the pressure of his fingertips on her buttocks as he drew her more tightly to him. She let out a soft moan. After being strong all day at work, bearing the responsibility that came with her professional role, it felt wonderful to simply take direction from someone she loved and trusted implicitly. She was more than willing in this moment to relinquish control to him. She wanted him to guide what was to come so that she didn't have to think or make any decisions. She could just enjoy, knowing that he would ensure their mutual pleasure. That he wanted this too was something she frequently worried about in the early stages of their relationship, but she had learned to accept it as true and was grateful they had found each other.
He felt her soften, and he knew she was his completely. He pulled away slightly, without letting go of her hips. Reluctantly, she broke contact with his neck and looked up at him. He met her gaze intently. She had kicked off her shoes already, and so she stood barefoot and bare legged in their kitchen. Her hands rested on his forearms. Slowly, he slid one hand down the outside of her thigh and began scrunching up her dress. She let her arm fall to her side and felt the flutter of fabric against her skin. Her heart began to race. When he got the hem of the dress up to her hip, he hooked one thumb over the waistband of her underwear and tugged. This caused her entire core to clench with desire and she felt pulled to him. She swayed momentarily and placed her hand on the counter to steady herself.
"That's a good idea," he said. "Why don't you turn towards the counter and place both hands there for balance." She did as he suggested, setting down her rocks glass and placing both feet on the floor once again. Moving behind her, his other hand traveled up her other thigh, under her dress, and he gently stroked her hips, upper thighs, and the area just above her mound. She could feel his breath on her. The few wisps of hair that had escaped their binding during the day tickled her neck. Her dress brushed her thighs as his hands moved back and forth over her. The combination of his hands and the feather light sensations of his breath, her hair, and the dress on her skin was arousing. Her breath began to become ragged. He kissed the back of her neck, and she felt the vibration of his deep voice as he spoke to her quietly.
"Let's take these off, and I'll massage your lower back for you. You must be tense." He knew she had been on her feet most of the day and that this always caused her lower back to ache. "Keep your hands on the counter. I'll do it for you." At this, the flutters in her stomach increased. She felt him slide her underwear slowly down the length of her legs. As he did so, he trailed his fingertips along the outside of her thighs. She stepped out of the garment, and he tossed it aside with one hand while the other hand encircled her ankle.
"Spread your legs slightly for me so that it's easier for you to balance." She did. He squeezed both ankles, his thumbs pressing the soft spot on the inside just under the bone. "That's good. Stay like this." With one last firm squeeze symbolically anchoring her feet to the floor, he began to slide his hands up her legs, his thumbs maintaining their vertical line. She felt the rest of his fingers fan out over her calves and the backs of her legs. His fingers never lost contact as he slowly raised himself. She wondered where he would trail them at the top. When he moved slowly and deliberately like this in long sweeping strokes, she absolutely melted. She swallowed hard, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. What was he planning?
Just as quickly as the thought entered her mind, she pushed it aside, focusing all her attention on the present moment and his fingers meeting at the spot between her legs. Without altering the speed of his ascent, he brushed one hand and then the other up the center of her, skimming the surface of her most intimate parts. His palms felt soft on her cheeks, and his touch made her muscles tighten. When he stopped at the small of her back, she relaxed once again.
"Bend forward and rest on the counter. It will help me apply pressure." She leaned forward and rested her head on her overlapped hands, the weight of her torso supported by the cool granite underneath. Raising her arms above her head caused her bra straps to dig uncomfortably, and she shrugged, trying to adjust them. He noticed.
"Is your bra bothering you? I know how sore you get after a day of the straps digging into your shoulders. Here, let me help." He slid his hands under her hips and lifted gently, which she understood to mean he wanted her to stand. He turned her to face him and slid his hands inside the v-neck of her wrap dress, unsnapping the snap in the process. He slid her bra straps off her shoulders, relieving the pressure, and rubbed the angry grooves where the straps had been, soothing them. It felt wonderful. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back. Relief and gratitude filled her.
