I gasped when he turned us, pressing us against the hard wall and wrapped my leg around his waist. His body began grinding against mine, our tongues clashing in a fierce battle for dominance and submission. He won, of course.
When it came to Aaron...
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It's pathetic. He's pathetic. The whole thing is just fucking pathetic. Yet, still the two of us still can't make up.
That's the hard thing about marriage. Compromise. And when you both live, share children and work together...there's bound to moments of pure tyrannical disorder.
Aaron wanted to close on a deal right now, I wanted to wait. Aaron wanted us both to reduce our work days, I knew we both couldn't. Guess who would be the one stuck at home whilst he went into the office..me.
Aaron was fighting with Caitlin again. I wanted to help, he wouldn't let me. Not to mention the kids have been crazy. Anastasia gets into fights at school now, Isla is teething and Caitlin is barely home.
I feel like I'm drowning. And my anchor is pulling away from me on his own accord, letting me sink.
"Kiara! Hurry up, I'm going to be late." My husband growls from the other side of the bathroom door. I want to scream we're fucking millionaires and have two spare showers but it'll just escalate everything and I'd rather not scream at each other before work.
The shower feels like my only time alone anymore, even then it's always cut short by a crying baby or screaming kids. Sometimes even the tigers becomes so distressed they start growling, forcing me to see to them.
"I'm out, I'm out." I chant, stepping out into the cold. I reach for the towel but my hand grasps air instead. "Shit. Aaron, can you pass me a towel?"
His loud overbearing sigh carries through the door. I roll my eyes and unlock it, reaching out my hand. He ignores me completely and swings it wide open instead.
I almost fall over, stumbling forward and clasping onto the first thing I can grab.
His pecks. Great.
I struggle to ignore his long cock that presses against my stomach. He's evidently aroused. It's nice that I have that effect on him still.
My body is no longer is the shrine he used to worship wholly, it's marred by two c section scars, faded acne marks, cellulite, stretch marks and yet his natural instinct still can't resist me.
I want to fuck him so bad. Just jump him right here and now to forget about all our problems and petty fights. Yet, I don't.
One, because I know we don't have time. The kids need breakfast, Isla needs feeding, we need to be in the office by nine. And two, that would mean submitting. If I give in now, it'll never stop.
He'll have that same terrifying hold over me that makes me turn into mush every time he's close. I'll give in too easily, at home and in the office.
No, if he wants to fuck me, he can take me in the shower himself.
He doesn't of course. Weirdly he steps out of the way, like a gentleman being pleasent to a complete stranger who isn't obviously naked and aroused for him.
