THE MIDNIGHT SUN

2.

"Right..." John mumbled long after she left and stood up, following her inside. The house always smelled like her, especially the bedroom. There she was, the odor of his house lying between furs and smooths like a winter fox nesting on her crib. Slowly he took off the remaining clothes except the underpants and laid behind her. He was on fire that night, his mind fuming about the return and now he couldn't understand why. From her breathing he could tell, if she was sleeping or not. And she wasn't. Are you waiting for me, he thought, and slipped closer. Do you want me tonight? Or is it just the storm. He realized, that the weather was raging outside.

If he only could see into her head or if she didn't lose her voice years ago. Many times when he was away and she knew, he slept with others, she spent whole nights persuading herself to leave. Or to not let him into their bedroom. To tell him, that he has to chose, her or them. But her guilt from her own failure always made her voice always vanish. However it wasn't only the guilt. The main reason was, that she never stopped loving him and everytime he came home, every single hint of her anger or disappointment vanished. I have no self respect, she thought so many times, that she rather stopped counting. He had no idea, how much of a power he had over her. And once he met closer, her skin covered with goosebumps and she shivered. Her hand found way to his and she placed it on her chest without turning to see him,letting him to cup her breast. How she now regreted, that she didn't eat more and her bosom was small and chest almost flat. Maybe he'd like me more, if I was more curvy.

But he didn't matter, if she was plump or less. Touching her was always different from anything else, although he never admited it out loud. Soon he understood her signals, she wanted him. Maybe it was the cold, maybe she missed him, if it was something from him to miss,he thought. And his beard nested on the crook of her smooth neck as he rolled her sunny hair on the side to sooth his lips on her skin. Pulling her closer against his bare chest. He could feel her hard edge of her perky breast shivering between his fingers as he continued to stimulate her neckline. But his hand rose to her face and turned her to the side. They lips met on a smooth kiss at first, then it grew deep and heated. Yes, he spent many times on brothels, but he never kissed them, no. And he missed her lips so much. As his tongue plunged in to meet her own, he pulled her even closer between heavy breaths and her wanting small sounds.

She herself had no idea, why she wanted him so much. Do I even need a reason? He's mine. My husband, I wear his surname, I have only him in my heart, in my head and I need a reason or excuse for being with him? Her muscles were trembling with every touch. It felt like she was standing outside in the middle of that raging storm outside, not lying under layers of cover, wrapped in his arms. Her hand landed on back of his head and she pulled him closer. Kissing him with yearn, with hunger. Yes, she was hungry for his touch, hungry for his presence, for his love. She needed him and she was aching everytime he left. Slowly without parting her lips, she turned her body to face him. Her hands roamed over his face, fingers running through his thick beard until it came to caress his strong chest. Every inch of his broad torso.

She didn't even have to go further with demonstrating her affection for he was hard as rock just from this kiss. They haven't kissed like that in long and he just realized how much he needed that, her. His wife, who he showed so less affection. And with lips glued to hers, he rolled her on her back, settling between her thighs. Pulling higher her nighty with his roaming hands. That essence, when she was in heat, could send him to heaven one hour sooner. That moment she felt his hand gracing her inner thigh, soon reaching her burning spot to meet her wetness with his fingertips. A deep almost growling voice came out from his throat, when he felt her all wet and warm, as she always was for him. He continued nibbling her chin and neck, until he pulled the nightgown off her and threw it behind him. Without loosing much time he fell on her breast. Mouthing one each time, sucking and molding it on his rough hand as smoothly as he could. He knew, sometimes he couldn't control his strength especially in this kind of a moment. This weakness.