Welcome Home

He fumbled with his keys, bag slipping to the porch with a thud as he unlocked the door. He was tired, and he hadn’t slept much on the plane. It had been a long week away and he just wanted to eat, shower and crawl into bed. Focused on the mental checklist he almost missed the yellow post-it on the door.

Welcome home, babe! Follow the post-it notes for a pleasurable surprise! No jumping ahead!
         xoxo C

A burst of adrenaline at the intrigue causes a stirring between his thighs. Grabbing his bag he enters the house, flicking on the light as his eyes scan the foyer, finding the next sticky note on the closet door.

Head to the kitchen. Dinner is waiting for you in the fridge! Take your time and enjoy.
         xoxo C

Leaving the bag at the front door, and locking up behind himself he heads to the kitchen. In the fridge waiting for him was a Pepsi and a roast chicken salad, with another slip of yellow paper attached to the plastic.

Grabbing the bowl, pop and his favourite dressing he heads to the dining room. Waiting for him on the table was a new book, the one he told he wanted the last time he was home, and oatmeal chocolate chip cookies for dessert. Smiling, he knew it was his lucky day.

Pulling out the chair he slipped in, digging into his meal as he started the book. He considered rushing through the meal but chose to take his time, just like she told him to. Four chapters in his salad was done, cookies consumed and pop can empty he heard footsteps above his head. Their bedroom. Rising to follow the noise he took the dishes to the sink, finding another yellow flag of instruction on the faucet.

Toss your clothes in the laundry, grab a quick shower in the guest bath and come upstairs. Now is the time to hurry!
         xoxo C

Leaving the dishes in the sink he strode the laundry room, stripping as he went. Clothes bundled he tossed them in the hamper, and naked, went to the guest bath across the hall. Seeing clean towels on the shelf above the toilet, and his robe on the back of the door he turned the water on. The temperature just right he stepped under the spray, grabbing the soap he begins the arduous, but quick, job of cleaning his 6’2 form. Task complete he towels off and wraps the robe around himself and heads upstairs to their room, where he finds another yellow beacon.

   Drop the robe and get under the sheet!
         xoxo C

Opening the door he found the room in semi darkness. A few candles lit and one of the bedside lamps was on, with a blue silk scarf over it, making the room feel like an underwater oasis. Soft music played from the speaker on the dresser, and a massage table set up at the end of the bed. So this was why she insisted on a large master suite, he thinks, shrugging out of the robe, letting it drop to the floor. Laying down he pulls the sheet over him, settling his face in the hole. She never ceased to surprise him with her antics.

There was a soft knock from the adjoining bathroom as the door opens, her soft voice asking, “ready?”

“Yes” was his only reply, a small thrill running through him at the sound of her.

On silent feet she made small talk as she grabbed lotion and prepared. Asking if the light or music were too much, her chatter was friendly but aloof, like they hadn’t been married a year, and known each other for five more than that. He smiled, his answers as distant but cordial. At least until her hands pressed into his back, then he let out a deep moan. She knew exactly where the tension was.

For the next hour she worked out the knots in his shoulders, back and legs. Taught muscles releasing under her capable hands. She wasn’t a massage therapist but knew what to do, how to work out the kinks. Perhaps it was her familiarity with his body; or because she had friends who were therapists and she grilled them on what to do. Either way the stress of the last week soon disappeared and he found himself softly snoring.

A gentle shake of the shoulder woke him from his doze. “Please flip over,” she asked quietly.

Suddenly he found himself wide awake, blood rushing to thicken his cock. He knew how her touch ignited him and was looking forward to those deft hands working the last taut muscle in his body. He’d never had a massage with a happy ending. Sheet raised he flipped over, not bothering to hide his growing erection. Once the sheet settled his cock prominently displayed how happy he was to be home. Once he adjusted to the light he caught the eyes he hadn’t seen in over a week. He never ceased to find awe in her beauty.

Her brown hair, heavily streaked with silver, was pulled into a high ponytail. Face clear of makeup, green eyes twinkling with mischief, full lips spread into a smile as he reached for her, pulling her down for a kiss. Her lips were soft and welcoming, a balm for any bad day. Her mouth opened for his tongue, his hand tightening the grip on the back of her head, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. His other hand snaked around her waist, pulling her on top of him, but firm hands pressed into his chest as she resisted.

Pulling back with a gentle smile, her fingers trace his face as the other hand swiftly pulls back the sheet to grip his cock. His hiss was instant and fierce. Her hand was firm and sure as she strokes him, eyes never leaving his. A whimpered plea triggers a wicked smile as she turns her body, tongue flicking the tip of his cock as she sucks it into her mouth. Hard and wet pulls tighten his balls, the orgasm building fast. His hands reach for her breasts, pinching the nipples through the thin cotton tank top she wore. Her moans and the effect of the vibration of her throat over the most sensitive part of him, sent him spiraling over the edge. Gripping the table, hips thrusting up he came hard, calling her name as he pumped stream after stream down her throat.

As he fell back to the table she continued to use her tongue to clean his cock, the sensation curling his toes. Unable to handle anymore he grabs her neck, dragging her up for a kiss, savouring the taste of himself on her tongue.

“Take your time getting up,” she says into his mouth, “but when you’re ready join me in the bathroom.”

She pulls back, sauntering towards the bathroom, pulling her shirt over her head and tossing it back at him. Through the partially closed door he could hear the water start. Not the shower, but the tub. Number one on her wish list when they started to look for a house together was a tub large enough for two. Number two was a gourmet kitchen, followed by a large master suite. All of them now making sense.

Cautiously he pulls himself up to a sitting position, rolling out his shoulders and neck. Swinging relaxed legs over the edge he stood up, stretching out his whole body. Glancing at the door, a nefarious smile crosses his face. It would take a few minutes for the tub to fill and he knew exactly how he wanted to use the time.

Pushing open the door he found her bent over the edge of the tub, adjusting the taps to find the right temperature. Her ass was bare, pants discarded next to the shower. He stepped behind her, hands cupping the smooth skin of her ass. A small sigh escapes her as he kneels, spreading the cheeks and his tongue finding her tight asshole. Sliding between the tight button and wet pussy her gasps grew louder. When he slips a thumb inside her whole body stills and she looks over her shoulder at him, eyes begging. His thumb made quick work of her first orgasm as his tongue continued to work her asshole, remembering fondly the first time he fucked that hole, how tight it was.

His tongue soon replaced his thumb, probing that hole for every drop, loving the taste and smell of her. He would never tire of how she felt and enjoyed every chance he got to lick her pussy. Pulling her off the tub he lay on the floor as she knelt over his face, smothering his mouth with her juicy folds. Grinding hips into his face she rode his tongue until, gripping his hair, she came.

Arms wrapped around her thighs he kept her above him, looking up at her as he continued his oral exploration, her hips rocking on his tongue as another orgasm took over. Fuck, she looked so hot when she came. Her eyes bright, face flushed and breath quick, she looked down on him, smiling as she relaxed her grip on his hair and moved to stand.

As he stood he pulled her into his arms, kissing her, mingling the tastes of each other. She lay her head on his chest, snuggling in and whispering, “Welcome home babe.”

******

“Good to be home, baby girl,” he said softly. 

With a sigh I slip down in the water and turning so my back lay on his chest, long legs framing my body, arms encircling my chest, resting just under my breasts. The whole reason for the extravagance of this tub was for moments like this. At least once when he was home we would fill it up, soaking together, usually after a rather rigorous session of sex. Tonight the bath came before that though. Tonight was different. Special. He might not have realized it but that was okay. I didn’t expect him to remember this day, considering all we had been through. 

Closing my eyes I tighten my grip on his hands and sink into his body, never feeling more safe then when I was wrapped in his arms. 

We lay like that until the water started to cool. No words were exchanged, none needed. His first night home was always quiet, taking time to transition from work to home life. I gave him time to wholly come back to me, however there was a limit, and no matter what we always slept in the bed together. It had taken us trial and error to understand this routine, but the last few years were worth the work. 

I felt him stir behind me, cock hardening into my back, hands cupping my breasts, thumbs running over the nipples. I turn my face to his as he leans down to kiss me. Softly at first, a press of lips before urgency took over and his tongue plunders my mouth, stealing my breath. Having learned a very valuable lesson our first night in the tub I broke the kiss to reach forward, lifting the plug to drain the tub. No reason to spend an hour mopping up a watery mess. Stepping out of the tub I grab a towel, taking my time to dry myself off. I look back to see his eyes watching every movement.

Placing the towel on the rack I walk into the bedroom, feeling him track me as I left. I folded the massage table, sliding it away and changing the music from instrumental to our sexy time playlist. The first song up was Eric Church’s Like A Wrecking Ball. Fitting. It was the first song we ever danced to. The song that was my go to when I needed to get off while he was away, knowing what would happen when he got home. There had been a few times I wondered how we didn’t destroy the house in our exuberance.  

Hands caress my shoulders, lips following fingertips, seducing me with his touch. Grabbing my hair he uses it as a rope to twist me around to face him. Lips descend, his mouth devouring mine like a starving man. My hunger matched his, hands tangling in his hair, pulling him down to me. I could feel the warmth spread through my body, pooling between my thighs. I needed him inside me, and I reach out for his cock, hard and ready for me. I turned around, bending over, hands grasping ankles. I did yoga just for this flexibility.

Not requiring any more of an invitation he spread my pussy, carefully entering. After soaking in the tub and no foreplay other than a kiss I wasn’t as wet, but neither of us wanted to wait any longer. His slow entry was torturous, the pleasure and need increasing with every inch. Fully encased in my tightness, he pauses for a moment, gently slapping my ass feeling me squeeze around him. A growl escapes his throat as hips begin thrusting, fingers digging into my hips. I glance back to see his face, eyes closed in concentration, a tight purse to those full lips I loved.  

Increasing his rhythm I came fast, followed quickly by another and another. I tightened around him as my juices slid down my thighs. Grabbing my hair he pulls me up, cock sliding out of me. When I was upright he carefully removes the elastic from my hair, making sure not to pull, letting it cascade down my back. Sighing in contentment, I turn around, pressing my ear to his heart, listening to the rhythmic thumping, as I wrap arms around his waist. He drops a kiss to the top of my head as we sway to the music. 

He moves us to the bed, helping me up, spreading my thighs, honing in to the treasure between them. Cupping my head he pulls me close, lips and tongue dominating my mouth as he moves in and out of me. I wrap my legs around his waist, laying back so I can watch his face as he makes loves to me. I focus on his full lips, the top one caught in his teeth as he fights to control himself. My hands move over his chest and stomach, his eyes close and brow softening at the touch. Tweaking a nipple, his eyes snap open staring me down, groaning, “Fuck. Babe, I’m going to come. Please come with me.” 

I raise my hips to meet his, the desire to peak together edging me closer and closer. He buries his face in my neck, teeth scraping the skin and I’m done. I cry out as I come hard and fast. My pussy tightens as I feel him explode inside me, bringing about another orgasm. He doesn’t stop, the aftershocks running through my body. Just as I know his body, he knows mine. 

When we are finally sated he slips out, rolls to his back and pulls me with him. I curl up on his chest, fingers tangling into his chest hair, sighing contentedly.

“Happy anniversary, babe,” he says. Chuckling at my surprised expression, “You think I would forget the day I first held you in my arms?” 

“Never,” I smile, kissing him.