forward to their weekly meet, but the constant bickering between herself and Hank had her distracted.
The scent of freshly cut flowers filled the kitchen when Michelle finally got home around three. A light buzz from one too many bloody Marys had her in a better frame of mind and there, sitting on the kitchen table, was a large arrangement of fresh flowers and a small white box tied with a black velvet ribbon.
The card was in Hank’s handwriting, “I have a meeting with a client at 6pm but can make it home by nine. Wear this and I’ll make it up to you tonight… I haven’t forgotten”. In the box, was a small package wrapped in tissue paper, inside was a pair of small black panties, the same as the ones she had worn to the Christmas party six months prior.
The rest of the day passed quickly for Michelle, her mood lightened considerably by the flowers and card, and the anticipation of finally having her husband’s attention all to herself. She had phoned Babette, her beautician to see if she could squeeze her in, “of course dear…” and so the majority of the afternoon had been spent there. After eating dinner alone, she took a bottle of sparkling wine into the bathroom and ended up having several glasses while soaking in the tub.
Lighting candles, Michelle finished drying her hair and slipped into a silky lace camisole, something she had bought several months back for a special occasion but had yet to wear. It barely covered the panties Hank had given her at the front and her pert toned bottom peeked cheekily from behind .
The night was warm and so, with the covers off the bed, she lay on the silk sheets, and sank comfortably into the pillow, waiting for Hank to arrive.
Michelle awoke with a start. The candles had burnt low and flickered to an unseen breeze, casting dancing shadows up the mirror and onto the vaulted ceiling above the bed. Her hair, tousled from sleep, pressed against her pale skin, looking almost auburn in the light and was reflected wildly in the crystal of the fallen wine glass on her dresser. Beside it the empty wine bottle, bathed in the burnt orange glow of the candles and looked like it was alight.
Hearing movement in the bedroom and realising how late it was, Michelle decided against turning over and confronting Hank over yet another missed date and instead decided to lay still and ignore his return. She tensed as his heavy form lay on the bed next to her, yet she still refused to turn, lying on her stomach facing away from the door and his side of the bed.
He lightly touched her shoulder, and trailed his hand gently down to the small of her back through the sensual material of the camisole she wore, lingering there for a moment. The black silk sheets lay over her legs and partially covered her backside, revealing her milk white cheeks and black panties.
Hank’s hands continued to run and stroke her back, and as his fingers continued to rub and caress, Michelle started to relax a little, the annoyance fading. She relaxed into the bed, enjoying the attention. Deciding that she would roll over and pull him down for a kiss, Michelle started to push up from the bed and roll over onto her side.
The gentle hands turned strong, preventing her from turning over and pushing her back down onto the sheets. Michelle opened her mouth to protest when one of the hands which had been rubbing and stroking her back for the last few minutes, came around her throat to her lips and pushed a finger across them, to silence the protest which was about to escape from them.
As she stopped struggling, the weight from the hand relinquished, and moved off her shoulders briefly. Then to her surprise, a thin scarlet scarf, one she did not recognise, looped over her head and fell in a loop at the bottom of her neck and resting
The scent of freshly cut flowers filled the kitchen when Michelle finally got home around three. A light buzz from one too many bloody Marys had her in a better frame of mind and there, sitting on the kitchen table, was a large arrangement of fresh flowers and a small white box tied with a black velvet ribbon.
The card was in Hank’s handwriting, “I have a meeting with a client at 6pm but can make it home by nine. Wear this and I’ll make it up to you tonight… I haven’t forgotten”. In the box, was a small package wrapped in tissue paper, inside was a pair of small black panties, the same as the ones she had worn to the Christmas party six months prior.
The rest of the day passed quickly for Michelle, her mood lightened considerably by the flowers and card, and the anticipation of finally having her husband’s attention all to herself. She had phoned Babette, her beautician to see if she could squeeze her in, “of course dear…” and so the majority of the afternoon had been spent there. After eating dinner alone, she took a bottle of sparkling wine into the bathroom and ended up having several glasses while soaking in the tub.
Lighting candles, Michelle finished drying her hair and slipped into a silky lace camisole, something she had bought several months back for a special occasion but had yet to wear. It barely covered the panties Hank had given her at the front and her pert toned bottom peeked cheekily from behind .
The night was warm and so, with the covers off the bed, she lay on the silk sheets, and sank comfortably into the pillow, waiting for Hank to arrive.
Michelle awoke with a start. The candles had burnt low and flickered to an unseen breeze, casting dancing shadows up the mirror and onto the vaulted ceiling above the bed. Her hair, tousled from sleep, pressed against her pale skin, looking almost auburn in the light and was reflected wildly in the crystal of the fallen wine glass on her dresser. Beside it the empty wine bottle, bathed in the burnt orange glow of the candles and looked like it was alight.
Hearing movement in the bedroom and realising how late it was, Michelle decided against turning over and confronting Hank over yet another missed date and instead decided to lay still and ignore his return. She tensed as his heavy form lay on the bed next to her, yet she still refused to turn, lying on her stomach facing away from the door and his side of the bed.
He lightly touched her shoulder, and trailed his hand gently down to the small of her back through the sensual material of the camisole she wore, lingering there for a moment. The black silk sheets lay over her legs and partially covered her backside, revealing her milk white cheeks and black panties.
Hank’s hands continued to run and stroke her back, and as his fingers continued to rub and caress, Michelle started to relax a little, the annoyance fading. She relaxed into the bed, enjoying the attention. Deciding that she would roll over and pull him down for a kiss, Michelle started to push up from the bed and roll over onto her side.
The gentle hands turned strong, preventing her from turning over and pushing her back down onto the sheets. Michelle opened her mouth to protest when one of the hands which had been rubbing and stroking her back for the last few minutes, came around her throat to her lips and pushed a finger across them, to silence the protest which was about to escape from them.
As she stopped struggling, the weight from the hand relinquished, and moved off her shoulders briefly. Then to her surprise, a thin scarlet scarf, one she did not recognise, looped over her head and fell in a loop at the bottom of her neck and resting
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