The journey of two people that have had everything laid in their feet since they were kids, except for the one thing they wanted.
Freedom.
In the society of the rich, you either keep the appearance or the passion. With lives put on crossroads, and...
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I walk into the library, where I know my husband would be. We came back from the dinner around an hour ago, which gave me enough time to take a shower and change, and my husband to hole up in his favorite place. I stop in my tracks when I see him.
He is reclining on the couch, his head on the armrest and his legs stretched out on the rest of it. He has dumped his shirt, giving me the perfect view of his naked chest and torso, and is only wearing sweatpants. That too grey. Lord help me. His glasses are perched on his nose as he reads the book that's in his hands.
He often reads before bed. Something I admire too much about him. His love for classics. I walk forward quietly so to avoid being caught of my presence just yet. I gaze at him some more from a corner until I cannot resist. I move forward and run my fingers through his hair. He looks up at me and gives a lazy smile. I lean forward to drop a kiss to his forehead. "What are you reading?"
He takes my hand and pulls me to the front. I sit on the wooden table beside the couch as he shuts his book and gives me all his attention. "A Vindication of the Rights of women, by Mary Wollstonecraft. It's one of the earliest works about feminism." What a fantastic man I married. He reads books on feminism as a pass time. "And do you like it so far, husband?"
"Yeah, she was quite a woman I must say. Alot like someone I know." He smiles at me while his eyes shine behind those glasses. My heart melts and I lean forward for a kiss.
My lips touch his and he responds right back. He pulls away for a second and takes his glasses of to throw them on the table and lean forward again to kiss me. That is one of the sexiest things I've ever seen. I cup his jaw, my fingers clutching the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck while his clutch my curls tightly.
A sound makes us pull away and look at his glasses that fell on the carpet. They didn't break but have a scratch big enough for it to be a bother. My husband takes my attention back to him. "It's alright, I have more." Ah yes, ofcourse.
"Good thing I never liked them." He frowns and I feel the urge to make myself clear. "They were nice, and you look stunning wearing them, but I couldn't help but be envious of the fact that they got to sit on your face alot more then I do." His astonishment turns me on. I've changed so much since I married him, I don't recognize myself either.
He pulls away from me and looks around. The next thing I know is that I am off the table and he is on it. He lays flat on it with his back against the wood. "Well then darling, come, let my tongue apologize for it's lack of being inside of you."
The shiver that runs up my spine is that of anticipation. I pull my panties down my leg and lose my robe, so I am only in my nighty. I get up on the table, my legs on either side of his face as I look into his eyes. He looks up at me with a look enough to melt ice. "Sit on my face, darling."
This is the first time I am trying to take initiative and it seems empowering. I lower myself down until his nose brushes against my clit. I jerk away or atleast I try to. His palms dig into my ass as he pulls me closer until his tongue is inside me. I clutch his hair as my mouth falls open in a silent scream and he moans. He moans as if this gives him pleasure and that turns me on more than I expected.
