Waiting

Moll kicked her shoes in the corner and lay the briefcase down. She looked at her tired self in the mirror and scowled. It had been a whole month that Paul had been away on his business trip and he wasn't due back in another. "Stupid business trips!" she rolled her eyes, and threw her shirt onto the bed.

She couldn't believe the sacrifices she had made for this man, who seemed to have no problems moving around the globe without so much as remorse.

It always surprised her, however, that when he came back, just looking at him, she could forgive his crimes. He would throw open his arms at her and she would run into them like a lost child.

But enough about that!

At the moment all she wanted....you know...was sex.

She looked at her naked self in the mirror...at the strange pot belly that had appeared out of nowhere, despite her careful diet. It bothered her sometimes if her getting flabby here and there was why Paul was always travelling so much. What if there was a supermodel stashed somewhere whom he adored and made love to all night on his long business trips?

Yet. She still missed him. All day at work, trying to focus on work, she thought about him instead ...how he would hold her, kiss her, engulf her if he was there. If only her panties weren't getting so damn wet, she would continue to enjoy her day dream, this habit she had developed to cope with his constant absence.

Alas. It had become nonsense. Addictive...

At the 3pm meeting to discuss cost-cutting ventures, when 3 of her colleagues was being laid off by upper management and half the office was scared to death their names would be called, she she had managed to slip away. Paul's naked slippery body was making love to her in their comfy king-size bed, over and over and over.

Indeed, Paul was something else. "A hottie", a friend at work had labeled him, when he had come to drop off her purse, which she had left before going to work. And then for all the jealous spinsters to see he had planted a oh so sizable kiss on her mouth. Right in front of the girls!

"I love you," he had turned back and winked at her, while all the women 'heaved and ho'd in their cubicles. And then, he was gone.

"What a bad bad man!" Moll kicked herself trying to get the naked image of her sexy husband out of her mind.

At home, now that she was back to a cold empty house, she walked around with a glum face. Everything about his absence annoyed her hormones.

"Player!" she cursed at her delicious hubby's photo lying on her bedside table. How she wanted to get into the photo frame and just tear his shirt off!

"Ohhh!!!" she wrestled in agony, gritting her teeth. She had never told him how distraught she sometimes got when he was gone. Now, as her hormones rose and fell, she reconsidered.

Should she call him? He had said he would not be available. That was the nature of his work. She never asked him about it. Understood he was right, but people were people. And they had needs.

But here she was, really, really insane with desire. She decided to do it. Dialed the number he had left in case of emergencies. If he had any sense of devotion he would not get very angry. Just a little.

"Husbands are so weird.," she grunted biting her lips.

Lucky as she was, she had never had to ask for sex from Paul before. Surprisingly enough he was always ready. But here she was having to sound desperate. How it did not sit well with her prudish upbringings.

A man always took lead, she believed.

"Always?" he looked at her standing against the wall, with her eyes shut, that first time in their bedroom.

"Mmmm"...she squirmed to fight his huge ticklish arms around her lower back. "Let me go," she managed to say, gasping and falling to her knees in one long kiss, as she tried to fight his inquisitive hands. The rest was history. Two children in college later, he was still making her knees buckle with his very presence.

But, now. It ALL drove but her mad. That he could just up and go and not care a dime about her needs. That he had driven her to this! Begging for sex!

"You're my doll. My sweet.." he would tease her on the phone when he needed to have some fun. "Touch yourself for me.." he would continue like the naughty man that he was, and then laugh when she yelled back sweet curses in embarrassment.

Why did he love to torment her so, she wondered, as she carefully dialed the number, and tried to think of a reason to say hello. He had told her not to use the number except for real emergencies.

"What would happen?" she frowned, angry again. Her mind got all foggy when she was like this. Couldn't think. At most, his submarine would receive a signal and the enemy would be alerted? But then, what about when he managed to use it when he wanted to get rid of his boner? Men... And all those things he said to her from 2000 miles under the sea. How stupid of her to give into him every time!

"Arghhh!" she bit her finger and stomped away from the phone. "Hate you!" she said, tears forming in her eyes as she ran downstairs.

It was pouring like cats and dogs outside, or she would have driven away from home. "Blasted day!" had made her horny or angry and she cursed herself watching the ran slide down the tall, tall windows. They had made love against it once. And once on the rug beneath her feet, like two lowly animals. The darned place wreaked of his naked smell..

The very though made her head giddy with desire. It was like he was back, just a hair's breadth away from her neck, breathing in and out on her, whispering naughty things as she turned around to meet his lips with hers.

And just then, she sat up in horror. The floor did not creak but two hands suddenly covered her eyes, as a warm tongue slid its way down the nape of her shoulder. For a moment, she was stone cold, until she felt a mouth firmly on hers.

"You're back!" she yelled, meeting it with unspent passion.

"Yes. And boy do I have a present for you," he giggled, picking her up and up the stairs.