Late 3

I'm late and she's mad. I know she's mad. It's just that the line at the first flower shop was so ungodly long that I had to go to another shop, and that one was out of roses. Well, they had a few, but they weren't beautiful enough for her.

By the time I got to the third flower shop, it was already six-thirty and I knew she'd be waiting, but I'd be damned if I showed up without flowers. Red roses, like she carried in our wedding. I was missing her so I hurried the florist along and she glared at me. I was thinking, listen lady, I'll have a hell of a lot more estrogen on my case if I'm any later.

It's seven when I pull into the driveway. I see a single light on, and it's in our bedroom. Good sign. I softly unlock the door and climb the stairs to our room. I am trying to position the roses carefully behind my back as to shelter them from any barrage I might receive from my wife if she isn't in a forgiving mood.

I see her and my breath catches in my throat. She's sitting on our bed, back to me, her hands in her hair, pinning it loosely on top of her head. She doesn't turn around. Locks of dark hair tumble down her shoulders and wisps fall down the back of her neck. Her muscles are tight as she moves her long fingers through the softness of her hair.

I drop the roses onto the bed and take my coat off, never taking my eyes off her. Her back is sculpted and smooth and I follow it down to the beginning of the roundness of her ass. I can see the curves of her breasts emerging as she moves her arms and my knees feel weak.

I'm at a loss, and it's not unusual. Sometimes she stuns me and completely amazes me. I pluck a rose from the bouquet and drop it next to her. She doesn't move. I drop another rose on the other side of her, and another behind her, and another, and another, until she is surrounded by a dozen red roses. They're all reaching for her and worshipping her and she loves it but she won't forgive me and I don't know what to do.

I see that she has placed candles all over the room; she's put our favorite toys and foods within easy reach but I don't want it now, and I know she doesn't either. I need her, raw and uninterrupted. The need for her is constricting me and choking me and I grasp the last rose so hard that I break the stem.

Shaking, I kneel behind her, crushing roses and needing her. I softly touch her lower back with the softness of the rose petals, fully expecting her to pull away, and overwhelmingly aroused when she doesn't. I sit back on my heels and loosen my pants to relieve some of the tightness building up around my cock.

She hasn't lowered her arms yet, and I'm dying to touch my lips to the softness on her sides, where her breasts are being pulled upward and held majestically in place. I know she prefers it slow, especially now, but I want to take her…

I run the rose further up her spine and feel her shudder. It's touching her just how I know that she needs to be touched. Our life has been busy lately, I think. We haven't had the time together that we've wanted. She misses me, and God, do I miss her…

The petals kiss her neck and she's lowering her arms, putting them behind her to support herself, and she's opening up, blossoming and I feel her. I want to look into her eyes but she won't have it; for once in a very long time, I am feeling her soul and I'm being absorbed into the crushed pain that she's held there for so long… so many times, she's told me… I adore you … and I suddenly know her adoration as she leans into me, naked and vulnerable and hurt by me, because I am suddenly defining adoration. I'm defining it by her; she's my adoration.

She's falling into me and I let her fall. Her loveliness is enveloped by the passionate flowers and I feel that I did something right. Her hair has tumbled loose and it's spread out across the bed and onto my legs like a cascading sunset. Her lips are slightly open and I see that her lipstick is smudged a little. Her eyes are puffy but she won't open them; her arms are resting across her breasts and stomach, and she is unreal.

I shift and let her lie uninhibited there as I watch her. We are in a movie, somehow, because I can hear the soundtrack of our lives echoing around us like the voices of a million angels. I can't breathe as I take in the roundness, the readyness of her breasts, the subtle bulge of her stomach, the glistening of her navel ring in the moonlight. Her legs are apart but I can't bring myself to look for fear that I will explode in desire.

Cautiously, I lower myself to within inches of her and breathe on her neck. Tiny goosebumps appear on her skin and her nipples harden into tiny rocks adorning the lushness of her breasts. I breathe down her shoulder and arm and take her hand in mine. I'm scared that she'll pull away, but I can't wait any longer, and I touch my lips to the smooth skin of her palm. The goosebumps reappear.

I am in a place of amazing peace. She's here with me, the queen waiting to bloom in a sea of red roses, spread out for me to absorb and take. Now, leaning over her chest, I see that it's rising and falling gently with the air that I am breathing on her. I can't help it and I take a nipple into my mouth, tasting it, the warm heat of my tongue melting it into this beautiful glory.

Something escapes from her lips and I move away, thinking it's a protest. But her eyes are closed as if in a dream, and her arm has fallen from her breast onto her hip, and her hand is resting between her legs. Her fingers, nestled deep inside herself, emerge glistening.

Her head is back and, in one motion, my pants are around my knees and my fist is wrapped around my throbbing, swollen cock. I begin to slowly move my hips to the rhythm of her breath and the pounding of my own heart. With my other hand, I trace a line down her cheek, softly grasp her breast, explore her all the way down until I meet her hand. She is pleasing herself, I can tell, and I don't want to stop her. I just rest there and watch her slowly touch the divinity until I can stand it no more.

She opens her eyes for the first time and we drink each other. Wordlessly, I stand up and, still grasping my aching cock in one hand, I pull my clothes off until I am naked before her. She is watching me with the expression one might have upon coming across a rare and unimaginable discovery, and I feel as beautiful as she is. I go back to her and wait for her to allow me in.

This isn't sex, she's telling me with her eyes, pleading with me to understand, this is us, it's me and you… and I know and I agree with her. She's letting me in, reaching for me, pulling me to her lips, and I love her.

Her tongue is running slowly across my lips and I shudder. Our kiss grows and grows until I am consumed by her. I lie her down and look into her eyes, knowing her. I am obsessed with the look in her eyes right before I take her. It's patient and needy and vulnerable and lustful. I kiss her neck and her back arches into me, her toes creeping up the back of my thigh until her leg is wrapped around my waist.

All barriers are down now, and my hand is tangled in her hair, my other hand still slowly pumping my cock, and we lose ourselves to each other. I greedily devour a nipple and she suppresses a moan. I am growing impatient with the roughness of my own hand and lust for her warmth wrapped around me like a glove. She senses it and pulls my hand away and, sliding down, crushing roses, she kisses my thighs. I roll onto my back and let her please me. She's loving me with her little kisses, with her eyelashes, breathing on me and teasing me. I have never been so aroused, and my hips roll into her face.

She adores me but won't touch me and I push closer, wanting her to taste me as I've tasted her all day in my fantasies. She just breathes on me and I feel her smiling. I can't stand it anymore and I reach down and begin pumping myself furiously, arching my back. She pulls away, frowning, but I push her head back down between my legs.

Her mouth is open in a gasp and I roll my hips back into her face, pushing one of my balls into her open mouth. She doesn't want to, but I guide her by her hair until the swollen head of my cock is between her lips. I want her to take me deeper… I'm making her mad again, and she grabs both of my hands and pulls away, glaring at me.

In one swift move, she is on her back, arms extended above her head, both hands held in one of mine, and I am kissing her all over. She closes her eyes, less from pleasure than anger. But her juices are dripping all over my knees, and I am dangerously close.

I position myself over her and kiss her lips, pressed shut. I keep my lips there until she lets me in again, and she finally opens her lips slightly. It's all I need, and I bury my face in her neck.

Her legs wrap around me once more and I am moving toward her, hungry for her, tasting her already. I'm twitching between my legs, and we connect.

The second my swollen head finds her moisture, I gasp and loosen my grip on her hands. They slide down and hold me, touching me everywhere at once like only she knows how. She guides me gently, sensing my excitement, not wanting to interrupt our journey.

I slide into her, slowly, just a little. She gasps and wants it all, as usual. I thrust again, getting just a little more of my length into her warmth. She is wanting it, grabbing me and pulling me, and I can't fight her.

I slam myself into her, my thickness kissing all of her walls and my fullness filling her too. She's pulling me from all directions, pulling me into her with her legs and hands and arching her back into me. I grasp her breasts and squeeze them, sucking hard on her neck as I thrust in and out of her.

It's all in and I didn't know she was so deep. Her legs are shaking and my heart is threatening to stop beating but I need her… just once more… just once more…

It's there and I explode into her, onto her, screaming, and she carries me through, tightening up around me as hard as she can, shuddering as well, burying her face behind her in the pillow as she arches and gasps. She is crying and saying my name, again and again, but I can't stop. I fill her more and more, and I am flowing out of her, between her legs and onto myself, and there is white light and she is there, close to me, trusting me not to let her down…

It's quiet. I open my eyes and I feel like I have been here for a million years or maybe just a few seconds. She's curled into me, and she smells like me. She is all over me, breathing quiet, but I know she's not asleep.

She forgave me, and she is surrounded still by roses.