The day had been long. Fatigue had set in. He was just trying to preserve enough sanity, on the ride home, to show his lady how much he missed her.

The phone call had said it all, she needed some pampering, some release. It was his honor and duty to take care of her. Why did Monday have to be so cruel with grueling meetings?

To make matters worse, the local boutique had no flowers, sold out. The corner shop had no chocolate, all taken by greedy kids. Coming home with no surprise treat was not his style. Even though, by now, the lady knew all the things he liked to buy.

Somehow, things felt a bit unfair. He got all the advantages of seeing his lady every day. She looked her best, cared for herself, made an effort, and supported him with all that she had.

They were a simple couple living in a complex city. She loved how he kept her fed with beautiful words and caring actions. They could have used a bit of extra money, even a bit more time at the gym, but they had each other and were as healthy as they were going to be.

It was not the physical looks that made them click, it was the passion that spoke from their souls that moved their hearts. They trusted each other, loved each other, cared for each other, and sacrificed for each other.

Softest Touch

She remembered how long it had taken him to pass his class. A rough hard steel worker by day, at night, he took classes to learn how to gently touch his lady and give her soothing massages. She had worked saving lives by night and used the day to sleep when not studying for a promotion. The dream was to one day have the time to be good to each other at normal hours of the day and or night.

With a smile, she remembered the time he had gently tied her with ropes. The care he took to make sure they weren’t too tight. The skin preparation, the triple checking that she was OK, caressing her along the way.

He had a gift for releasing her stress and making her feel like the lady she wanted to be. Even when she forgot to do things he asked and needed a stern reminder with an open hand, he always made sure she was OK even while teaching her a lesson. She didn’t mind, it was for their good, and she did learn a few lessons… like how much a solid caring swat of the rear felt great.

One day, their careers would move, their lives would come back in alignment, and then, he’d ravage her and she’d please him, just like old times.

The latex had been picked out, the nylon selected, even the crop had been tested. She was ready to surprise him one day, when their calendars were aligned and they shared a night off together. She wanted to find out what his classes had taught him. The taste that she had was marvelous, she needed more, craved the firm yet soft gentle touch.

Perched on the edge of the bed, she waited. He had the softest touch when helping her slip into her uniform for work. It was their little tiny ritual that kept them needing each other. Some days, he got home early enough that they could do more than just touch. Other days, she insisted she was OK being a little late, but he never allowed her to leave late, it was against his rules. She respected a man of principle… even if her heart desired the simplest and softest touch of his lips.

Her hands started to trace over her body in much the way his had the day before. The sensual nature of the feeling… as her nails slipped past each curves… her mind pretending it was his.

Her mouth parted, her eyes closed, her breath changed, as she moved her hands around her neck, craving the power of his hands whenever he gently squeezed and reminded her how much he owned the very air she breathed.

Heart rate elevated as her hands wrapped around her chest while her forearms cradled her breast, much like when he held her and told her how beautiful she was and how much he needed her in his life. She relished how much he reminded her of his need for her, the grace that saved him in a world of madness.

Fingers probing between her legs, she was not wearing any underwear, it was not yet time to slip into the work’s uniform, how she wished he was doing the exploring instead. Lingering a bit, she felt herself falling for the memory of his heat. Where was he already? Tonight had the promises of more, if traffic did rob her of more time.

Her hands traced a line behind her leg, where she normally lined her seamed nylon, only tonight, it was plain nylon for work. The way he had always held her legs as he helped her straighten the line, made her smile and feel all the more alive. Raising her heel off the ground, she ran her fingers along the edge of her heel smiling at how many times he had lifted her heel out of a nursing shoe… telling her that she would rise above her current issues… and walk as a queen should when their dreams came true.

His strength was her fuel. His belief her anchor. His touch her comfort. She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve such caress, love, and support.