Recollections

Smut I

Make Love

"Come on baby, just once."

"Absolutely not."

"Please, just one."

. . .

"Pleeease."

"No, go away."

She pouts at her husband, who's desperately trying to ignore her straddling. She glances at him, and finally sighs.

He leans in, her leaning in with a smile, but soon dropping the smile when he puts his pointer on her mouth.

Such a tease, is what she thinks. He knows how to get to her, how to turn her on, and how to push her buttons like no tomorrow.

He often uses it to his advantage.

"Listen, first. One, only one. Then run along upstairs and wait in bed for cuddles," he instructs. Her body softens at the mention of cuddles, and she hums.

Satisfied, he removes his finger and leans in to touch his lips to her, letting himself linger for a few quiet seconds.

When he pulls back slowly, her eyes are still closed, and her hand has reached up, her fingers placed where the man's lips just were.

"Your kisses are intoxicating," she whispers. She leans in, lowering her head so that her forehead can rest against his clothed chest, softly raising up and lowering down.

He smiles and wraps his arms around his adorable girl, running his calloused hands up and down her back gently.

He almost forgets why he told her to go upstairs in the first place, but now he's too comfortable. He simply sighs. Later.

When the night comes to the present, the man is smirking and already ready. He holds his love's hand while walking up the stairs. After sitting on the couch for two long, the day had to continue. But now that the sun had fallen low below the horizon...

In her head, she was going to shower with her husband and cuddle until dreams. To him, he was going to carry her from the bathroom to the bedroom and show her love.

They get to the bathroom and start stripping their clothes. She hums a light tune that he's unfamiliar with, delighting his ears.

He smiles, utterly in love with the woman.

They get in, and start to wash each other, still with a word left unspoken. They've done this more times than they could count. It's almost second nature.

Once they're fully washed and rinsed, they stand for a while. Out of routine, she walks up underneath the water stream and turns to him, closing her eyes and letting her head fall slightly back. She hums, satisfied, the hot water tracing her skin with attention. Her shoulders slacken completely.

He's so mesmerized, that without realizing, he just stares at his wife.

In that moment, he forgets his plan for the night, he forgets the shower, and he forgets the goosebumps making their way across his skin from the lack of warm water. His eyes simply watch her as she lets the water flow down her face, through her long, wavy hair turned straight under the weight of water. It trickles down her smooth and pale skin, her sleek shoulders, her thin torso, her widened hips, her hair being slick against her curves.

He watches intently while the water drains down his wife's body, running down her pelvic area, and down to her lean legs.

He swallows and takes a step up to his wife, who's eyes continue to stay closed. He reaches his hand forward, letting it rest down on her shoulder. She doesn't flinch or shuffle the slightest bit.