It's about 9:00pm, and she's in the bedroom of her apartment. She's just gotten home from work and is utterly exhausted. It's only Tuesday, but it's been a tough week already since she also worked most of the weekend. A glass of wine sits on the bureau, and she sips it as she removes her jewellery. She sighs. Don is coming back from his two week business trip tonight. He's been driving all over the Midwest, and depending on what time his meeting ended this afternoon, and what time he actually got on the road, he made it clear that he planned on coming straight to her place if he could get there before midnight. She feels guilty when she hopes that his meeting ran late, or that maybe he hit traffic. She has missed him terribly but knows he'll be horny as hell, and God forgive her, she is just not in the mood tonight.
Her fingers are on the top button of her suit jacket when she hears the key in the front door. Shit! She swears under her breath, and then curses herself for feeling this way. But damn it, she is tired.
"Carol," he yells out as the door slams shut. "Where are you, Hon?"
"In the bedroom," she calls back. She hears him place what she supposes is his briefcase on the coffee table along with his keys. The change in the sound of his footsteps lets her know he has now entered the kitchen. "Ahhhh....that's my girl," he says, and she assumes he has seen the open bottle of wine. A cabinet door opens, then bangs shut. Glunk, glunk, glunk sounds follow as he pours himself a glass.
"Hey, aren't you gonna greet me? It's only been two weeks," his voice gets louder as he approaches the bedroom. There he is, leaning against the doorway, head cocked to one side, cute little grin on his face. The right side of his upper lip always rises slightly higher than the other when he smiles. For some reason, this is one of those things that makes him totally irresistible to her. She walks over to him, stands on her toes and kisses his cheek.
"Hey you. How was the drive?" She asks as she turns to walk back to the bureau. She takes two steps before she feels a hand on her elbow.
"Um, hello. Excuse me," he says. "Is that all I get?" She turns back to him and wraps her arms around his chest, placing her head against his shoulder. His arms embrace her.
"That's a little nicer. But this is even better," he teases, as the hand without the glass of wine moves to her bottom and squeezes. She jumps, letting out a tiny squeak, then looks up at him.
"I'm sorry, Don. I am just so fucking stressed and tired. Can you wait until morning?"
He gives her his best pouty, little boy face, and she giggles. Oh, he is adorable, she thinks. She keeps looking at him, loving to gaze into his eyes, big and green and surrounded by thick black lashes. Damn, she wonders. Why do men always get the most beautiful eyelashes? She pulls away. Back at the bureau, she takes another sip of wine. She starts to undo her suit jacket, then pauses. Shit! It suddenly dawns on her what she is wearing underneath. This morning, she had dressed with all the best intentions of seducing him, throwing on her sexiest pair of underwear. Black low-cut bra, matching lace panties, garters, stockings....the whole works. Over that she wore a suit. Just a fitted jacket that buttoned to a v-neck and didn't require a blouse beneath it, along with a tight skirt. But then today turned out to be as crappy as yesterday - employees fighting and threatening to quit, clients complaining - a real day from hell. And now, she could not get herself in "the mood" no matter how hard she tried.
"Hey...earth to Carol." His voice breaks through her daze, and she jerks her head towards him. "You've got my favorite suit on. Did you wear that especially for me?" He asks, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively. He leaves the doorway and walks up behind her. She feels his arms wrap around her waist and looks at him in the mirror.
"Come on, Honey. I've missed you." She watches as his head moves, then feels his lips on the back of her neck. "I've thought about you all day," he growls, his breath warming her ear. Still watching in the mirror, she stares as one hand moves over her pubic area, palming it through her skirt, pressing on it as she feels him pushing himself against her bottom. His cock is already hard. The other hand slips under her jacket and cups a breast as he begins to nibble her ear, whispering, "Can't you tell how much I've missed you?" God help her, she loves him more than anything, but she just can't get into this right now.
Wrapping a hand over each of his wrists, she grabs tight. "Don, please, it's been an awful day. I just want to sleep," she explains. In the mirror's reflection, she sees his face. His _expression is one of total disappointment.
He lets go of her. He moves away and gently says, "Sure, Hon. I'll just go take a cold shower." He hangs his head in an exaggerated pose, shuffling along toward the bathroom. Giggling, she tells him to stop being such a martyr.
She hears the door to the bathroom close, and lets out a sigh. She quickly undoes her suit jacket and slips it off. She's about to place it on a hanger when she notices her reflection. Whoa, she thinks. Her movements throughout the day must have changed the position of the bra. Half her aureolas and nipples are exposed. She hears a noise and turns toward the doorway. There's Don, towel around his waist, staring at her.
