Jacob couldn’t wait to get home. It wasn’t because of his new promotion. It wasn’t to read a new book, play a new game, or to hang with his friends. It was because of her.
His wife.
He couldn’t wait one more minute to see his lovely, gorgeous Mara.
Jacob had thought about her all day long while at the office. As he sat in a crowded conference room, a client droning away on a call about the design of his new stator, Jacob was staring at the windswept firs outside the windows. He dreamed about how Mara’s soft breasts would feel in his hands, her nipples hardening against his palms. He longed to have her in that very conference room, just the two of them. Would he take her hard and fast, the table creaking as her hips bumped it in time with his eager thrusts? Or would he take his time, directing the ministrations of her tongue, dictating the depth of her throat he’d need to reach his ultimate pleasure.
His Mara lived to please him. She loved nothing better in life once Jacob had introduced her to the joys and agonies of serving her husband, her lover, her Master.
He parked the truck a block down the street from their house. He knew she was using a vacation day from work today, so he wanted to surprise her with his early arrival. She loved surprises, especially when they involved his hard cock and her screaming orgasms. He intended to give her plenty of both today. He felt such joy to be home that he had to consciously avoid dashing down the sidewalk like an overeager little boy.
Jacob managed to slip through the front door silently, mentally patting himself on the back for his ninja-like stealth. He was stopped in his tracks by what he saw in the kitchen.
She was standing with her back toward him, her hips canted against the island counter. She had on one of his shirts, a blue and white striped dress shirt that reached down to mid-thigh. He knew she favored them because it allowed her some covering. Early in their marriage he’d decreed that while in the house she was allowed to wear only a shirt, with no pants or skirts. She was allowed only panties in the winter, and not even those during the warmer months.
She was reading, holding up a paperback in one hand, a cup of tea in the other. Her long brown hair cascaded down her back. She scratched her hip, pulling the tail of the shirt up in back enough to see her luscious bottom was sporting a rather skimpy pair of black lace panties.
He smiled, creeping toward the kitchen. It was a warm late May afternoon, and that meant she was in trouble now.
He walked up behind her, clasping her around the torso, and placing a hand over her mouth.
Mara let go a muffled yelp, her head twisting around to look at him, eyes wide. He felt her loose breasts under the shirt shake against his forearm. At least she’d followed one of his clothing rules.
She relaxed a bit, realizing it was him. She muffled something against his hand and he shook his head, his gaze locked with her green eyes. He turned her around to face him, taking his hand away from her mouth once he knew she wouldn’t speak. He plucked the thick romance novel from her hand and dropped it on the table behind him, the cup of tea following suit. She straightened, her eyes lowered, clasping her hands at the small of her back, knowing what he expected of her.
He put his hands to the open collar of her shirt, and ripped downward, the buttons flying, making her gasp. Her eyes met his, her gaze mirroring the fire he felt. He yanked the torn shirt away, throwing it to the floor, his eyes dropping to her breasts. Her chest was heaving, and he adored the movement of those heavy globes, her dark nipples standing up under his regard. He lifted a breast, squeezing its firm weight in his hand. She murmured something, but a quick shake of his head silenced her.
His fingers snapped the lace of her panties against her hip, and he shook his head, affecting a disappointed look. Mara blushed, then looked away. He could
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