He unlocks the door and on entering the hall, puts down his bag and gladly slides off his tie and puts his jacket on the banister. It's very warm outside, and it's only marginally cooler indoors. His greatest hope is realized when he hears her humming in the kitchen. He's halfway down the hall when he recognizes the tune and grins. Although it's been a few months since he's heard it, it's never far from his mind. He stops in the doorway and just watches her as she takes a sip of her wine. Her hair is piled in a loose knot on top of her head, the loose tendrils sticking to her neck in the heat. Her silk blouse is also clinging to her form, which is doing nothing to assuage the impure thoughts he's been having about her since he left for Zurich nearly a week ago. Aware of his presence, she reaches up in to the cabinet and takes a second glass, and after pouring a generous measure, she finally looks at him with those eyes. He's looking at her with an expression she knows well, and it always amazes her that even after all this time it never ceases to make her go weak in the knees. Coyly, she remains where she is, and makes him come to her, which he does with very little prompting.
He presses up against her back, his lips instantly finding that spot on her neck that takes her breath away. His hands, starting on her hips, quickly move elsewhere; one skimming her backside while the other darts under her blouse and bra to rub her nipple. She fleetingly thinks she should be annoyed that he can turn her on so quickly, but then she feels triumphant; she can tell by his rough breathing and the growing erection pressing into her that he's just as ready as she is.
His lips and hands are relentless, and she needs to clutch the countertop to steady herself. With one rough motion, he turns her around and lifts her unto the table. She loses no time in undoing his shirt, and finished with that task, her fingers continue southward to his belt and trousers.
There are times that their lovemaking is slow and tender and reverential, but this is not one of them. She gasps as he enters her, and she can't help but wrap her legs around him, drawing him deeper. He pounds into her, encouraged by her sighs and her fingernails digging into his back. It doesn't take long for the both of them to reach the edge. She arches her back and he can't hold back any longer; he spills into her, covering her lips with his.
She runs her fingers languidly through the damp hair on the back of his head, as they both catch their breath. He can't help but grin at her, a little dazed.
"Welcome home."
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This is my first attempt at smut…I would love a review! More to come, I think…should I continue?