Home

I awaken alone in the master bedroom of our new home. Your side of the bed is still warm, a faint trace of cherry-chocolate lingering.

Nature's calling, so I'll have to make my way down the hall, to the bathroom. Stepping into the hallway, I'm overwhelmed by the aroma coming from downstairs, I mean if God's love had a scent...

Suddenly, I can't decide which yearning is more intense; the emptying of my bladder or the filling of my stomach.

I don't even remember descending the stairs, after relieving myself. I stop at the kitchen entrance to admire you in all your glory; rhythmic, graceful, sensually poetic.

You're still bottomless and it's all but obvious to me that you're wearing nothing under your favorite rose-red, Egyptian-cotton cardigan, which happens to belong to me. Reminded of last night's delicious rendezvous, yet another yearning seizes power over me.

Despite wearing earbuds and my effort to remain unnoticed, you aren't startled by my touch. From behind, I'm carressing your ass and French-kissing the back of your neck. Your height and the welcoming arch in your back allows for my already pulsating manhood to nestle comfortably between your buttocks as I cup your breasts and inhale.

You feel like home.

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