I hear you packing in the waltz wardrobe. Your overhead with its leather inlays and Indian mustard sheet with your essential, a tally suit bag, anniversary endowment from an adoring wife. These are affair which engender mixed feelings ; I love you and can only barely bear you being away from me, and I am inordinately gallant of and grateful to a man who can direct care of us so well. Your travelling is essential to this life but I hate it, I hate it almost as much as I love you.

This prison term, it is all the more difficult for me because I have this thick, primordial yearning for you, unsatisfied last night because of your work. You came to bed so late. What was it ? Two ? Three ? I listened to you arguing, convincing, disputing, for time of day, drifting off to the pitch contour of a man whose voice alone can impress mountains.

Why didn't you wake me ? ! Why didn't you slide my the covers from my white meat, raise my mitt above my nous and wake me with your breathing spell on my knocker ? Why didn't you send me to catch some Z's by forcing me to cum and filling me with you ? Why did I wake up so awfully clean ?

I'm always emotional at this time. It's biological. I know this and enjoy about myself that I am so needed of your touch, particularly now. You love it too but last night ? You let me be. Why did you let me be ?

I shaved everything for you, making for sure that every in of me was flabby to your manly sense of touch. God, but don't I need your calloused handwriting on me. At a Good Book, I would drop to my knees. There's aught at all that I would abnegate you… I bathed, plucked, take your dearie gown, your favorite step-in, perfumed, did my tomentum, all just to be with you in bed.

Your voice though… I could listen to you from our sleeping accommodation for hours, every word audible through the registry in our storey. It rises and falls like the piss reaching a kitty from a cliff ; mystifying, rumbling, musical. No curiosity men follow you. No wonder men want to be you. No marvel women circle you like asteroids… No, like cat-o'-nine-tails in heat. But you are mine and I am the solitary cat in heat you need.

But I couldn't mark you, couldn't leave you with an unforgettable essence and retentivity of me, and I am angry.

Still, I know it is the endocrine talking for I love you too much to saddle you with my senseless needs.

You are doing what you must, to make a life for us what I adore. I have no legitimate complaint and, so, this morning, I again bathed, and combed, and perfumed, and dressed to allow an impression.

I love this dressing nightie. It barely covers my stern and its sheer textile shows just enough of me. I am beautiful in this, I don't doubt as beautiful as you thought I would be when you bought it. It's panties are lovely as well, really more intimate apparel than dressing surgical gown but we can make that that's inadvertent, a favorable second purpose, can't we ?

You come up behind me. My eyes follow you through the mirror. Wordlessly, your strong arms encircle me, wrapping me in you. I smell your cologne, yet another way I mark you. I note the nighttime amobarbital sodium shirt with its white pearl button, your open collar, revealing that gold hybridizing, just gravid enough to look sodding between your apprehension castanets. The dark metal ring on your hand, your brand spotter, your thick belt, with its sword buckle, your black pants.

All of it, my marker of you, my warning to other kitties that you have a woman who will do anything to proceed what is hers.

Your embracement is electric. God, how I need you !

Your hands are on my tummy now, gently kneading my flesh through the lace… You kiss the book binding of my cervix, my shoulder joint, my amphetamine arm, pulling the top of my own back to reveal me. I feel the tightness of the knock release as you pull its end. You are sliding my night-robe off and I let it fall down, lowering my blazonry so that you can reveal me, let out what is yours.

I revel in you possessing me. I am made whole by your gaze, by your touch, by everything you do and necessitate. Just getting you a cup of coffee is enough to attain me sense complete. Kneeling before you, my work force on your thighs, yours twined in my hair, makes me feel adore, desired, loved.

"You'll be late for your flight of steps"I remind you.

You continue to osculate my neck and articulatio humeri, cupping my forget white meat and teasing my nipple between your forefinger and pollex. I want you to miss your escape. God Almighty, I need you to last out with me, to, just this once, let that deal go, let that victory elude you ; but, I can not ask. It would be legal injury and unfair to traverse you what makes you, you. It is what I love about you, that insatiable desire to capture every challenge ; but, today, today, I need you to retake this field.

As you kiss my shoulder, gently sucking my pale skin, I think of the inevitable purple mark you are leaving. I will have to plow that but I love them. You leave them all over me, just a few, always. You mark me, as I do you… This one will be darker than others.

Your mitt left hand is on my thigh. You pull my leg apart and I don't hesitate. I need you to touch me…

"The car will be here any minute"in remind you.

"Shhhh… I've got three hours before my rescheduled flight. ”