Living life on half a lie

By: Chrissy Howe

My son was crawling now. His blond bangs, golden eyes and cheeky grin, so much like anothers. My daughter still upon my hip. She suckles contently on her dummy, peering up at me with those familiar blue eyes. I love them both dearly. With all that I am, they hold my heart entirely. Just as their father does too. His selfless ways, his strong resolve and his kind heart. He would do anything for these children we created. He would do anything for me also...except...

I don't fully hold his heart.

Part of it belongs to another and it always will. I have to live with that fact. It hurts, but there isn't much I can do about it really. It is out of my control and he says, it is out of his also. That he cannot help who he cares for, but that there is room for us both of us in his big heart. I can do nothing but believe in him. I always have, no matter what he has promised me, he has always been true to those promises he makes.

But...it still pains me, to know I don't fully have him to myself.

The times it really shows, is late at night when we are alone together. He holds me, close to his chest and cradles me, but I know, he wishes for another to be holding him. A strong arm encircling my body, warm puffs of breath against the back of my neck, all tell me he is there. But where is his mind? Where are his thoughts? Something hard pressed against my buttocks, answers my question for me.

He is dreaming of...him again.

His breathing becomes shallow and I have to wonder, just what is happening in that dream. But do I truly wish to know? What it is that he has done in the passed, with him? I know that he hasn't been near the man since we got married. It's easy to see it upon his face and in his tired eyes each day, that he longs to be back there. I turn over in the bed, determined to at least help him with some relief.

I've always helped him, after all. Was it not me who gave him a leg to walk on?

Reaching up, I cup his face and feel the stubble that has grown there during the daylight hours. He is so grown up now. Really and truly, he is a man now. A loving man. A wonderful father, though he always doubted he would be. Slowly, I lean in to kiss his lips. So soft and warm, I can feel his heart thundering in his chest and his pulse racing through our bodily contact.

Will I be enough? To settle his need and keep him happy?

The second our lips touch, he wakes with a start. I shush him gently, adding kisses to his jaw and his cheek. Once he is fully in the here and now, his attentions turn to me. It seems, that during his dreams that man has his whole life in his hands, but awake, I hold his life in mine and I try to always make him happy. He does the same for me too, I cannot complain about that, he does make me very happy.

But is it worth seeing him, at times, so distant and off somewhere else in his thoughts?

He rolls me over, so that I am laying upon my back. Those strong hands travel along my sides, as he slips atop me. I can feel his need, urgently pressing against my womanhood. It makes me tingle all over, but mostly, down there. The heat from it, bleeds through his thin boxer shorts, warming me up and making me wet. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and draw him down, lower, for a tender kiss. He comes to me without hesitation, but the kiss is not tender. It's heated, passionate and wanting. I cannot help the moan that leaves me.

He has such a strong effect on me, he is like a drug to me. He always has been.

Grinding me, as if nudging me into complying, I part my legs to allow him to settle between them. He presses against my entire body, muscles flexing with every move and I moan once more. Those hands, are travelling, one lower and one moving to cup one of my breasts. He kneads it, moulds it in his palm, moulding me in the process. The hand that went low, slips up under my night gown, teasing up my inner thigh.

Oh I love how he can tear me apart and reshape me, with a simple touch of his hands.

I shiver, from that light touch along my thigh. I moan, from the little pinch he uses upon my nipple. I arch into his palm more, thereby rubbing my body on his and he groans deeply. It's like I am teasing him, just as he is doing to me. That sneaky hand under my night gown, has found the edge of my panties and is tracing it. I lift my hips, meeting those probing finger tips. I want more, want him to touch me somewhere else too.

How is it, that he is so loving and attentive, yet he isn't entirely my own?

His mouth leaves mine and I moan loudly, as those skilled hot lips, make a path down my neck to my clavicle. He teases and nips and sucks, and I am torn asunder by him. My panties then shift to the side and a probing finger slips between my moist folds, seeking, teasing and making me want to scream his name to the heavens above. For he is my god, in that moment. I know of nothing else, other than him and his scent filling the air.

I feel like I'm burning up inside, ablaze like the fire I once used to see in those golden eyes of his.

A thick finger slips into me and I call his name wantonly into the dark room. He is always so careful to make sure, that I have reached my peak at least once, before he finds his. That is so selfless of him and so sweet. It is something that makes me love him so dearly. How he always, thinks of me first. I manage to trail a hand down, finding his hard length and encircling it with my fingers. Stroking him, making him groan more.

I want to feel him in me, but I know unless I hit that glorious high, he won't dare to enter me.

His hips move all on their own, as his body tries to get more friction, from my hand. I know he is aching to finish, to be buried inside me. He had told me, many times, that my heat within drives him wild. I tilt my head way back against my pillow, as that probing finger is joined by a second and then a third. He isn't wasting any time, using all his skill right now, to expedite things and get inside me faster. His need is very much apparent to me now.

Will it be enough? Will I be enough? Even though he always tells me I am, I still...wonder.

I can feel it building now, that sense of sweet rapture. It comes like a flash flood, all at once and it overwhelms me. My entire body arches a little, pressing up against his, as I release and soak those fingers more. Panting, barely able to catch my breath, but he is already lining up to enter me, the way he breaths, tells me he is desperate to feel what I have just experience. With one swift thrust of his hips, he enters me fully, reaching deep to my very limits.

I have him now, we are connected in the most basic way, but I want all of him, not just part of him.

I moan needy and long, as he begins to move in me. I can feel him churning me up inside, driving his dagger of pure desire deeper with each successive thrust forwards. I hold onto him, feeling the bed rocking a bit and my mind is beginning to go blank. I want to savour this, in every minute detail, but the sheer pleasure of it, has my mind fuzzing over. I can't think, I can barely speak, only uttering incoherent sounds of ecstasy.

He is rocking my world and I am being shattered by this euphoria, that he has created.

Higher and higher, I climb, the fall back to earth will be mind blowing. I can tell, from the way he pulses and throbs within me, he is close to that pinnacle, to his shuddering completion. His pace picks up, faster and harder, I can feel another wave starting to build in me too. I get the strong sensation, that we will finish together. I hear him, straining to get his body to move, to go as fast as he needs it to. His urgent need to finish, is taking over his mind and driving his actions now.

I repeat the same words over and over out loud, like a mantra. Of how I love and adore him.

Finally, we fall together like a house of cards tumbling to the ground. The high is incredible, the monsoon of desire that whips us around and sends us reeling, is fantastic. I never want it to end, but I know it must. We cannot stay this high in the stars forever, now can we? After he shudders and twitches above me, his body slumps and he comes to rest on mine. I hold him close and just ride the pleasure train with him.

Why can't this be how our entire lives are? Why must it only be in these late night hours?

He slides off me, coming to rest by my side and cuddling me close. His breathing is levelling out now, as he slowly drifts off to sleep again. But he cradles me, which I am glad for. I know that tomorrow, will be another day, another charade so to speak. He is going off to the city in the morning, off to visit with friends he made, during his journey's. The thought creeps into my mind, that he might see him and they might do more than talk.

It worries me. Keeping me awake longer than I should be. I have my kids to think of after all. No, our kids. Two beautiful little ones, who adore their father and who adores them also. He never stays out of touch. Calls where ever he might be, brings back gifts and tender love for them and for me as well. But it's not entirely real.

It never can be, can it? Not when your only living a partial truth...

...Living life on half a lie.

Fin

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