Two Different Roads

Daybreak

Ellen crept into the house with great trepidation, certain John would be waiting, furious, but he was nowhere to be seen. She undressed quickly, washed up and put on the first piece of nightwear she could find which just happened to be a silky, really short spaghetti strap gown John had given her. (He was always buying her clothes and lingerie and then asking her to model them for him.) She crawled into bed alone, exhausted.
She had just fallen asleep when movement, weight on the mattress next to her awakened her again. She knew it was her lover immediately. His scent, even the sound of his breathing was as familiar as her own. He quickly slid under the covers, and then he was spooning her.
He wasn't angry which meant he didn't even realize she'd been gone. Probably too busy doing all the things he thought she didn't know about. She would have kicked him out of her bed, but she was much too tired for a fight at the moment.
She tried to go back to sleep instead, but then John was kissing her neck, his hand trailing up and down her leg. He hadn't come to her for rest-far from it.
"Ellie, are you awake?"
Now she tried to PRETEND sleep, but John was always nothing if not persistent. He caressed the inside of her thigh, moved that mischievous hand to glide over the thin silk of her knickers. Finally it crept inside them.
She was still more than a little angry with him, wanted to tell him to stop, but truth be told, a residual amount of arousal remained from what she'd been up to with Mike, and after all this WAS John, the man she'd loved for as long as she could remember.
Still, she could at least make him work for it. She lay there silently, didn't move as he touched her. At last, her lack of response inspired him to resort to the most powerful weapon in his vast arsenal.
He took her knickers off, placed her on her back, opened her legs for him and dove in. Ellen gave up all pretense at apathy immediately the moment that oh so talented mouth touched her. He tongued her, sucked until he had her screaming.
"You love me Little Girl?" He asked when he finally entered her as if he were seeking reassurance, as if he subconsciously knew she'd nearly cheated on him.
"I love you Johnny!"
Any bitterness she'd been holding on to evaporated for the moment in his arms. When they made love she was never able to doubt his devotion. He was so passionate, so tender always. At times it was almost as if he were paying worship to her body. He kissed her, caressed her, held her close. At least momentarily Mike was forgotten. There was only John, her John.