Late for Work

She was dressed only in her plain white cotton bra and a skirt when he called her for breakfast. She was frustrated she could not find her favorite blouse and rubbed at the dark circles under her eyes.

Picking through the massive pile of clothing she found a gray tank top with a stain on one side. Wrinkling her nose at it, she sighed and threw it down as he called for her again.

Coming up the hallway, she ducked into the kitchen long enough to make up their tea. The toast was his assumed job, but she did it anyway. She was feeling groggy, while she slept well the hot of the July day was looming.

He stared at her creamy white skin as she walked across the small living room to the dinette, the two mugs of tea steaming in each hand. Light from the dawning sun streamed through the Venetian blinds in soft pinks and oranges and bathed her as she walked, giving her body a series of horizontal stripes.

His mouth watered slightly, the grizzled stubble from his unshaven face giving him a gritty visage. He stood up, seeing her hands were full and went to get the toast.

Putting it on the cutting board, he called out:

"Babe? What do you want on your toast?"

"Butter and honey," she said absently, drinking her tea.

He looked at the plastic bear of honey, its thick golden gooiness drizzling in thin stripes on the toast over the rapidly melting butter. He pondered the matter and then put the toast, with the honey on the cutting board and brought the whole thing in.

He set the board in the middle of the table, and leaned over her, softly stroking her silken chestnut hair, his lips tenderly grazing her forehead.

She leaned up and their lips met tenderly, with soft, gentle kisses. She did not notice his hand reaching for the bottle. She did not see his thumb flip the cap open. She felt his left hand grab her hair firmly as his tongue slipped into her mouth, invading it softly.

Then she felt the drip on the cleavage. She was puzzled, and then the drip turned into a run. She squirmed, but he held her firm. She would be the first to admit she liked to be dominated, but was defiantly caught off guard.