The living room was dimly-lit, its colours muted and subdued, with golden rays of evening sun shining the window casting a shadow over everything. The low lighting setting the perfect mood for a relaxed evening. It's calming...
But you were distracted.
Your fingers are flying across the remote controller as the streaming service flashes with endless choices of shows and movies to watch on the tv screen and you can't help but feel a bit overwhelmed by all the choices. The time seems to be crawling particularly slow today. Maybe time is not the problem... your hormones are...
You're feeling especially needy today due to your ovulation, hormones out of sync with a high libido since afternoon. The need to feel his affection and intimacy is making your hormones run rampant and you feel your patience waning.
The urge to satisfy yourself and let your urges run free is strong, but you're restraining, waiting patiently and holding back your natural desires, resisting those primal impulses. Your mind is a tangle of thoughts and desires fighting against each other, one wanting to let loose, the other wanting to remain patient for your boyfriend.
Your heart jumped a little when you heard the jiggling of keys from the other side of the door. Taking a deep breath and clearing your throat, you made yourself look like everything was fine when it was nothing but the opposite. You got up from the couch and moved towards the entrance, keeping your ears peeled for the footsteps outside.
As he walked in through the door, you were momentarily blinded by the sunlight that framed his silhouette. Your heart beats wildly at the sight of him, and your body responds with a flurry of desire. But instead of rushing into his arms, you tried to play it cool, hiding your overwhelming feelings behind a feeble smile. "Hey..."
"Hi." As he steps closer, you couldn't help but let your eyes wander over his freshly groomed appearance - the neat lines of his new haircut, the subtle hint of a five o'clock shadow, and the way his clothes hug his body. The more you looked, the more your hormones kicked into high gear. Your skin feels hot and tight, your breath shallow and ragged.
He notices your gaze and raises an eyebrow, smirking at the barely contained lust in your eyes. "You like it?" he asks, running a hand through his newly styled hair. The simple gesture sets off a chain reaction in your mind, conjuring up images of him touching you instead. Oh, he knew what he was doing!
"Yeah," you managed to croak out, your voice barely above a whisper. You tried to clear your throat and regain some semblance of composure, but your mind is flooded with wanton thoughts of him.
He takes a step closer, his eyes locked onto yours. "I'm glad," he said, the words hanging in the air between you two like unspoken promises. A shiver runs down your spine as you absorb the meaning behind his simple statement.
The tension in the room is palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. You swallowed hard, your eyes flicking down to his lips for just a moment before quickly looking away. "I... I should, uh, make dinner," you said, voice barely above a whisper. It's a feeble attempt to shift the focus from the electricity arcing between you two, but it falls flat.
He chuckles, shaking his head as he steps closer. "No rush," he subtly runs his hand along your waist, sending shivers down your spine. Your breath hitches at his touch, your body reacting instinctively. "W-what?" you whisper, your voice barely audible.
"We can do... something else?" he asks playfully, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Underneath his casual question, there's an unmistakable undertone of desire. A shiver runs down your spine at his question, your mind racing with possibilities.
"I... I don't know," you stammer, as you raise your hand to run your fingers through his freshly cut hair, now feeling a bit bold when you realise you both are on the same page, "what do you suggest?" Your words trail off as you lean closer to him, your lips mere inches away from his. His eyes lock with yours but doesn't pull away, nor does he make the first move. Instead, he leaves it up to you, daring you to take control.
