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He thought of the woman that shared the small house with him. He was tired bone tired, his head ached and all he really longed for was hot bath and several glasses of chilled white wine. And her.Despite his growing foul temper, entering his home always made him feel calmer, her presence strong. He could hear her in the kitchen, humming softly to herself as she prepared their dinner. Leaning against the door of the kitchen he watched her, a feeling of uneasiness washing through him as she didn't immediately approach with her usual greetings for him.Normally she would drop whatever she was doing, and prostrate herself. His mind's eye could see each precise movement she made. Her back would arch slightly as she knelt, thrusting forward her full breasts, her shoulders would straighten and her thighs would spread. She was his, and by spreading her thighs displaying to him her heat, allowing his gaze to fall upon the marks he placed there, told him as much.Today she stood, looking over her. ."Are you staring at me?" her voice snapped sweetly through the previously silent void of our hotel room. She had awoken.I smiled at her, "Couldn't help it, you look gorgeous." Creeper." she joked, tossing a pillow towards me in vain.I mounted the bed, and moments later, her. I kissed her with passion, morning breath be damned. She opened her legs slowly, wrapping them around me seductively. I glanced down at her beautiful pussy, brown pubic hair trimmed and inviting, her glistening folds slowly pulling apart as her legs opened, exposing my home for the last decade, the place where I loved to be.I shuffled my boxers down just far enough to allow my five inches to strike outwards, and I immediately planted my dick against her dampening mound. We kissed again, tongues swirling. There was a passion present in this bedroom that had been sorely missed in ours back home, and before we could speak another word I was inside of her.Her moans were muffled but passionate as she buried her face.
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