Walter

This morning I woke up and my husband was not in our bed.

He went away without waking me up. He made his breakfast on his own and he got out. And I have heard nothing.

Dear me; I'm really a hard sleeper...

I knew he had to leave very early, for his job. A very urgent task. Out of home until tomorrow. It's not the first time. I had told him to wake me up, more precisely, I had told that I would have woken myself up, on my own. Nothing to do...

I go to the kitchen. There is something in the microwave. He made something for me too...

Out of the microwave, the small thermos-cup. Inside of it, my chocolate. I know it is. He knows I like it. Especially in the morning. On the black cup, the sign written with the white enamel once used to cancel the mistyping.

"I love you".

Four weeks ago, Walter and I have made love. More exactly, Walter had possessed me.

He has been so imposing, so hard... Yes, I was agreeable, but he did as if he did not care if I was or not... He was insulting me, he was boning me... He was saying that it was nice to fuck me... and he was calling me... yes, that way...

And I have let him do it all...

-

I went shopping, and now I have lunch, watching TV. Newsreel. I comment the news, even insulting this or that person on the screen. Just to hear a voice. Although I know: it's mine.

I am the kind of person who thinks out loud. Muse, so to say. My husband does not care. He says this helps the brains to work better. Who knows...

Eight weeks ago... It has been right here, in the kitchen. That is: EVEN here...

It was in the morning, The kitchen is the closest room to our flat door, I was worrying about the neighbors, but he did not care for that.

He hugged me strongly and kissed me, bend me over the kitchen table... His hand between my shoulder blades, so warm and strong... The other hand pulled my skirt and my pants away... my breasts on the table, on THIS table... And I did not oppose a bit, just moaned.... He played with his dick between my thighs, my buttocks... And then he stuck it into me... hard, strong enough to take my breath away, with any will to resist, to oppose... If I ever had it... I was ready for him. It's always so. He could have taken me from the other side too, in the other hole, if only he wanted to do it... But he did not. He kept pounding me in my belly, and I enjoyed it, even if he was rougher than ever. The only thing he said was. "hey, but there's a lake here inside!"... yes, a lake... A warm, deep lake...

And when we finished, he pulled me to the bedroom, undressed me, pushed me on the bed, threw himself over me, covered me with kisses, and when his dick was ready he took me again... Always from behind...

-

The sun has set. I have cooked something for dinner, and now I am eating, watching a film I love, at the TV. I hope nobody will call me, and let alone e-mail me or look for me on Skype. I just want to see that movie, hear again that story. Yes, I know how it ends up. I even know the quotes by heart, one by one. So what?

Advertising. Five minutes at least. I turn out the volume and watch out through the window. Lights in the houses across the square. Every light is a person, a couple, a family, a story.

My husband is out there. A light through the window of a hotel room, on another square, in another town. Alone. Yes, alone. I don't "think" it. I don't "feel" it. I know it.

No, he is not a saint. And not even an ugly, lousy old low-down man who never could attract the attention or the desire of a woman. And even less, a sociopathic personality, too shy, or the like. No, none of the above

He is just a bit lazy. And he admits it. He has a woman, he loves her, she likes him. Why ask for more? Why get life more complicated, take care of the conflicting demands of two women, instead of one? Sniff another body? Taste another sex? Hear different wailings and moanings? Big deal!

Sure, he could do whatever he likes, and keep mum. How could I know what he did in another town? He could go with some whore. I mean, "sex worker", really. No strings attached. But he did it when he was young, he told me. He got rid of an unwanted chastity, but for the rest, it was not so hot. So why take that dive again?

And more, much more than this, he does not like to have secrets. Not when he can do without it. I know him. So I am sure about that.

Three months ago, me and Walter... Oh, that time it was amusing...

It was ME. It was when I ruled...

I told him to wait some minutes and then I went into the bedroom, changed my dresses and got hidden in the big wardrobe, high from the floor to the ceiling. I shouted him to come into the bedroom, he came and saw nobody. Then I got off the wardrobe.

He stopped and stared.

Black leather trench, down to my feet, unbuttoned. Black knee-long leather boots. Black slip. Black bra. Black Russian fur hat, "shapka ushanka". And the face of a steppes' alpha she-wolf.

He smiled, but I put my index finger's tip on his nose and ordered them to quit, and he quitted, or thereabouts. Then I kept ordering him what to do. Take out your jacket, take out your blouse... When he remained only whit his boxers upon, I hugged him, kissed him, rubbed myself on him... Don't laugh, I hissed to him. He complied, even if it was quite hard for him. He liked the fact that I was in command, that time. It was different. I knelt down, took away my fur hat, poke my hand in his pants... "Hey, cool-hand!", he said. I had his sex in my hand already, and I stared at him with harsh eyes. As to say "shut up or I will eat it away!"...

And then... His salt skin, as if he was always just got out of the water... the tip of his sex on my lips, soft as a kiss... My mouth on his sex, my lips LIKE a sex... a female sex... they opened, they greeted it... inside, down to the uvula... to the bottom of my throat... one, two, many times.. And every now and then, just for a change, to kiss his balls, to lick them, to suck them... his thighs... and some glances, not subjugated at all, in his eyes... "I can bite it off, if I want"... But I did not do it, I loved him too much... He didn't even dare to touch my head, I kept staring at him, right to the end... Even his... yes, it had the taste of the sea, of the salt water... I swallowed it all, and I looked at him with the same face. I did it just because I WANTED to do it. Don't forget it...

And he pulled me up, and kissed me. "French kiss" if there ever was one. Right over my mouth... IN my mouth...

-

The movie is over. Happy end. Life is too short to listen to stories with a sad ending. Reality has plenty of it already. I feel fine. Time to load the dishwasher and I will go to bed.

I've just pushed the button to start the washing when I hear the door bell ringing. So late? Who can it be?

I go to the door, open the peephole as if I was seeing through a periscope.

Is he. Is Walter!

I open the door and he runs in the flat, between my arms. He hugs me, he kisses me, he gropes my butts as he knows, as I like, and he knows that I like... My panties are soaked before he touches them... I wanted him, I wanted "it"... I feel it right inside of me, already... My sex, my body belongs to him, already... It's made for that, it WANTS that... His dick inside, his blows... his hands on my skin, while he...

But... No, please, no... not yet...

I push him away. Be patient, Walter... I know, you want me, you have driven in the dark to be here now, you had risked... I don't want to think what... But no, not now, please...

Tomorrow... Tomorrow I will be yours, you will do to me what you want, everything you want... You will fuck me, yes, fuck me wherever you want, in the hole you want, how many times you want... And you will be mine, your long hard dick will be mine... But tomorrow...

He shook his head and hugs me again. He knows what I think, but he wants me NOW... I'm going to surrender, but I try to resist yet. No, no... I want you, I want your dick, you are the one male I want, I'm a woman, a female, I love you, I want you like hell, I was waiting a month already... But it MUST be tomorrow, please... I don't want a casual sex, a trivial sex, something you do by chance, for boredom, for habit...You know that... It must be something precious, rare, special... Something you wait for, like Xmas when we were children... We have waited for it, so we want it, as if we were lovers, and not man and wife... Please, don't waste it all... My love... My only man...

"The fourth Sunday is tomorrow..." I pant.

"But midnight has passed already..."

Oh, right... well, then...

Another long, beautiful, blessed Sunday...